


Spring Cleaning

by Sculder (Philer4Ever)



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Discipline, Domestic Discipline, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 38,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philer4Ever/pseuds/Sculder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys do a little spring cleaning and something goes terribly wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let's Get Started

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys do a little spring cleaning and something goes terribly wrong.

**Spring cleaning at the Skinner/Mulder residence.  
**  
Walter got me up at what appeared to be the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning so we could get an early start. We had agreed to do it sometime in May, which to him was as "at-the-last-minute" as he was going to let it get. Me? I kept procrastinating. I made sure I was always busy with something and didn't have the time.  
  
Well, this time I had run out of things and he had planned this wonderful little activity for _this_ morning. He woke me at 6:00 AM. I told him I didn't even get up that early to go to work, but he just kept saying he wanted to get an early start.  
  
After calling me to get up for what seemed like hours, Walter threatens me with bodily harm-- which with him is no idle threat-- so I got up. I made my way groggily into the bathroom and took my shower. It did the trick in completely waking me up. After toweling off and throwing on some sweats, a Tee and socks, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen where Walter was busy fixing us some breakfast. I leaned against the doorway with my arms folded and watched him. I love to watch him cook. After 2 years, it's still weird seeing him all domestic. I thank God he is because I'm sure as hell not. I figured one of us had to be a little familiar with the kitchen or we would have to live on take-out for the rest of our lives.  
  
He glances at me with a frown.  
  
"It's about time you got up. I told you I wanted to get an early start today. We have a lot to do," Walter said as he handed me a mug of coffee.  
  
"Thanks," I say, taking it then glancing at my watch. "It's only 6:37. Christ, we have all day and besides, there isn't that much to do," I conclude, taking a sip of the hot brew.  
  
"Isn't that much to do? I beg to differ. Between your stuff and mine, this place is a cluttered pig sty. Have you seen the hallway closet? I can't even get in there anymore."  
  
I move to sit at the table, placing my mug down. "Most of the stuff in there isn't even mine," I say, taking another sip.  
  
"What is that supposed to mean? It doesn't need to be straightened up because it's not your stuff?" Walter asked, irritated.  
  
I look up at him. "No, I didn't mean that at all. I was just saying it's mostly your stuff. That's all. I know it still has to be straightened up."  
  
He glares at me for a few seconds then turns to take the toast from the toaster. He puts four slices on a plate and hands them to me. I take them and continue to try and make nice.  
  
"I'm only too glad to help you straighten up your stuff," I offer.  
  
"The hallway closet isn't the only thing we will be straightening up. Have you seen the bedroom closet? Did you see the number of boxes in there with all your shit? I've had to hang my clothes on the outside because there's no room inside anymore," he says as he puts the plates on the table.  
  
Now it's my turn to frown. "'Shit'? Are you calling my classic video and magazine collection 'shit'?"  
  
Walter stops momentarily to address my question. "Yeah, it's classic shit," he says in a daring tone.  
  
"Just because they're not "Citizen Kane" or "Hamlet" videos doesn't mean they're shit," I say defensively.  
  
Walter snickers and turns to get the frying pan of eggs from the stove.  
  
"Fox, I am not getting into this with you right now. All I know is some of that stuff needs to get out of that closet."  
  
I watch as Walter scrapes some scrabbled eggs onto my plate. After he's done putting some on his own, he reaches for the pan of sausages he had warming in the toaster oven. He gives me two and takes two for himself.  
  
"Do we have any orange juice?" I ask, getting up and going to the frig. I open it and peer inside.  
  
"Yeah. Look on the door shelf," Walter answers, seating himself at the table.  
  
I grab the container then get two glasses from the cabinet and place them on the table. I pour some for us, putting the container on the table and sitting down.  
  
I sit staring at my plate, sighing loudly. I look up underneath my lashes to see him watching me.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asks as he put two slices of toast on my plate.  
  
I sigh again. "Nothing," I lie.  
  
"Fox we don't have time for this. What is it?" he says, slightly irritated.  
  
" I thought we were going to do something fun today. I mean-- it's very rare the both of us don't have to work on a weekend. I didn't want to spend the whole day doing house cleaning," I say in full pout mode, letting my foot explore the inside of his thigh.  
  
Walter gives me a smile but it quickly turns into his ever-familiar stern face. "Stop it, Fox. This is precisely the reason we need to get this done today. We don't always have days off together and this is a two-man job."  
  
I reluctantly drop my foot from his crotch. "Two-man job? This isn't even a one-man job. Why don't we just hire a maid or a cleaning company to do this crap?" I ask.  
  
"Because I don't want strangers in my house messing with my stuff. Now-- we are going to get this done today and I don't want to hear any more of your whining or complaining. Is that clear?" Walter commands.  
  
I glare at him while I move my eggs around on the plate.  
  
"I'd like an answer from you," he says. I can hear the anger in his voice-- so I had better answer him.  
  
"Yeah, it's clear," I say defiantly.  
  
"Good. Now eat up so we can get started. I want to work on the bedroom closet first."  
  
We consume the breakfast without any more words. I clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher. He tells me to meet him in the bedroom as soon as I am done.  
  
We finish the closet in about two hours. The boxes with all of my shit wound up being relocated under the bed. I had to practically fight for them to be there. He wanted me to throw them out, saying all the magazines were way too old and outdated. I told him porn mags never _get_ too old. Pictures of the naked body are something to behold and would always be for eternity. The same went for the tapes. I think just to shut me up he told me to put them under the bed.  
  
There were a few things belonging to him as well: A box of old worn out looking weights and old boxing magazines. He said the weights were still usable and the magazines...well, he realized he didn't need them, so he threw them out.  
  
Soon it was time for us to move on to the hallway closet. Yippee! We went to work taking out loads of junk, most of it his. There were stacks and stacks of newspapers dating back to 1998. I had no idea why he was keeping all of this paper and decided not to ask.  
  
There were some boxes of magazines: Ladies Home Journal, Redbook, and various sports mags. He told me Sharon got caught on the phone with some telemarketer who talked her into buying them so once a month they would arrive and end up there. He told me to put the boxes near the door so we could take them to the recycling room in the basement later. I did as I was told, also putting the stacks of newspapers there.  
  
When I'd returned, Walter was on a ladder pulling down another box from the back of the closet shelf. I ran to help him lower it to the floor. I looked inside and it was a box of old clothes. He told me Sharon put it up there to take to "Good Will" but obviously never got around to it. I watched as he pulled out several pieces and I could tell they were mostly her clothes. I began to think about the life the two of them had in this house.  
  
"Christ, I haven't seen this in years. I'd wondered where it was and why she never wore it," he said, holding up a dark green sweater with small white flowers on it. "I gave this to her for her birthday."  
  
I could hear a little sorrow in his voice. My God, the woman put a birthday gift he'd given her in a box to take to "Good Will"? I wondered how long it had been in there. I watch for a long moment as he stood there clutching the sweater.... I think it's time to snap him out of it...  
  
"Walter? Are we finished? Can I go?" I asked hopefully.  
  
I can see him come back from his reverie, his expression changing. Once again the familiar glare is back.  
  
"Finished? Are you kidding? We still have a lot to do. There's not just the closets, there's drawers to organize, shelves to dust and carpets to vacuum. There's an endless amount of things to be done," he said, climbing back up the ladder toward the top shelf.  
  
Luckily with his back turned he couldn't see my face but he could hear my voice. "Please don't say we have to do all of it today. We'll be here all night," I whine.  
  
He looks down at me from the ladder and I make sure I don't look up. Wouldn't want him to see my less than happy expression...

"Oh, we don't have to do it all today. There's always tomorrow," he says with a sinister tone.  
  
I tilt my head up and give him the nastiest look I can muster. He acknowledges it by giving me an order.  
  
"Go get the vacuum then start getting rid of all the dust on the book shelves near my den," he says, turning back to the shelf.  
  
I sigh loudly and obey. Just as I was picking up the vacuum, I hear a crash coming from the hallway. I leave it there and run back to Walter. I find him holding up the shelf with his hands as things on it are falling. I quickly grab one end and together we lower it gently down to the floor.  
  
"Thanks," he says. "One of the brackets came from the wall as I was taking something from the shelf. I need to go to the store and get some putty to fill that hole so I can put the shelf back up," he says, walking away.  
  
"Can I come?" I ask, praying he would say ‘yes’. Anything, just so I can stop all this cleaning for a few minutes...  
  
"No, I want you to say here. You can take all the books off the shelves, vacuum each one then put them back. And don't forget to do the shelves themselves," he commands as he shrugs into his jacket.  
  
I look over at the book shelf and see the hundreds of books lining them. I can feel myself getting queasy.  
  
"What did I do?" I ask him.  
  
He looks at me. "What?"  
  
"What did I _do_? I must have done something to be punished like this. What did I do?" I ask, trying to look as miserable as I can.  
  
He grins and walks over to stand in front of me then places his hand against the side of my face. "Fox, I'm not punishing you. This stuff needs to get done. Now get going. I want at least three of the nine shelves done by the time I get back," he says, sliding his hand behind my head, pulling me to him for a deep passionate kiss. When we break, I'm left weak-kneed as he opens the door. "I should be back in about an hour." He closes the door and is gone.  
  
I recover from the kiss, licking my lips as I glance at my watch. It was now 10:21 AM. We had been at this cleaning crap for almost four hours and it wasn't near lunch yet. He would be back in an hour so I reluctantly go back to get the vacuum. I also get the ladder. I figure I'd start with the top row first. I plug in the vacuum, turn it on then take out the hose attachments from the small compartment in the back. I climb a few steps and reach for one of the books. It's heavier than I thought and I lose my grip on it and it falls to the floor.  
  
"Shit!" I yell, as I climb down the ladder. As I bend down to pick up the book, a small furry creature scurries over my foot. Even though I'm not the least bit afraid of mice, this sight causes me some alarm. I observe his route as he scurries along the wall toward Walter's den, then flattens his chubby mouse body and disappears under the door. I stand there for a while with my mouth gaping open then I move to the door and put my hear to it to see if I can hear him in there. I get down on my hands and knees and peer under it trying to see him but I can't.  
  
Now-- most people would just open the door, go inside and look for the mouse. Well, I can't do that...  
  
Why, you may ask? Well, I'll tell ya'... You see-- this is _Walter's_ den. This means it's off limits to everyone, including me-- or should I say especially me. I am not allowed inside unless he wants me to bring him something while he's there. He keeps it locked when he's not using it. He did leave me the key but I’m only to use it in case of an extreme emergency.  
  
What _kind_ of extreme emergency, you might ask? Well, an extreme emergency where he would need me to get inside and rescue his precious collection. He said in case I needed to evacuate the house, he wanted me to get his collection out safe and sound.  
  
Now I guess you want to know what kind of collection a man like Walter could have that would mean so much to him. I wanted to know the same thing. When I asked him about his precious collection, he said all I needed to know was it was an extremely expensive collection. He didn't want anything to happen to it and he wanted me to stay out of there. In order to protect it, the room was off limits to everyone.  
  
Of course, I told him I couldn't believe he would keep me out, too. Then he told me he felt better knowing I wasn't going to be nosing around in there while he was out. I asked him-- how was I supposed to save his collection if I didn't know what it was? He looked at me for a few seconds, deciding whether or not to say more. Then he told me they were in a glass cabinet and I couldn't miss them.

  
Knowing me, you’d figure since I had the key I would have taken a peek... One day, I did just that. I mean when has an 'off limits' sign or a warning of any kind ever stopped Fox Mulder?  
  
Actually, the day I moved into his place he told me about the den being his and he didn't want me in there. He tried to explain it was his private sanctuary, a place where he could be alone. At the time, I couldn't ask 'where was mine?' I still haven't but I will...someday.  
  
Anyway, I didn't like having an off-limits room in a house we were both supposed to be sharing. He did make it a point of telling me what's his is mine...all but that damned room. A few weeks after I moved in, I got this incredible urge to see what was in there. If he had just let me see what was in there in the first place, I wouldn't feel so compelled to sneak in. He could have just told me not to go in and I wouldn't.  
  
Really.  
  
Don't look like that...  
  
I mean it! Because the door is locked and I don't know what's in there, I must-- no--I need to get in there and see for myself.  
  
On that fateful day, I got the key, carefully unlocked the door and went inside. I notice it's a somewhat ordinary looking den. There's a large mahogany desk in the center with a PC, phone, files and a few books. At the far right of the room there's a brown leather love seat with a floor lamp next to it and a small end table.  
  
I moved further inside and looked to my left. At the far end near the wall...I see it. I see why he doesn't want me-- or anyone else-- in this room.  
  
I slowly make my way over to the cabinet. My heart begins to pound in my chest as I move closer. The cabinet is about five feet tall and the entire thing is made of glass. Inside were four shelves, also made of glass. On three of them were seven porcelain figurines. They were about nine inches tall and looked like Samurai warriors. Each had on a different costume and they all were holding swords in various fighting poses. There were small individual lights on each shelf directed at each figure. I had to admit they were beautifully crafted. Each one was very detailed and they looked very expensive.  
  
At the time, I didn't know they were very rare but I knew they meant a lot to Walter. He would do anything to protect them, even if that meant preventing his lover from getting near them. Just as I was about to get outta there before he got back, I turned to look right into the face of my now angry looking lover. I swallow hard with wide frightened eyes. By the look on his face, I knew I was in for it...  
  
I tried to apologize for disobeying him and going in his den when there wasn't an extreme emergency. I told him I couldn't help it and curiosity had gotten the better of me. I told him I was sorry and it would never happen again. I promised. I begged. As usual it didn't do any good. I should have known...  
  
He just glared at me, not saying a word then slowly removed the belt from the loops of his pants. He then pointed with the belt in the direction of the love seat.  
  
I knew the drill.  
  
Yeah, Walter punishes me--with a belt, sometimes a paddle or his bare hand-- on my bare ass. I know I'm a grown man, but ya see, we have this arrangement. It was made way before we ever got involved. When I was just his subordinate and he my supervisor, Walter encouraged me to make a contract with him. Whenever I got out of line, disobeyed a direct order, risked my life foolishly or put any one in danger because of my actions, he would subject me to corporal punishment.  
  
He figured it was the only thing that would work against my stubborn will-- and he was right. Since our little sessions, I've been behaving more. Hell, I'm no fool. I didn't have any say in the matter. I do something wrong and he finds out, I go where he wants me and drop 'em. It had always happened in my office because it was in the basement where no one goes and no one would hear us-- or should I say, hear me. This is just between he and I. Scully doesn't even know and I want to keep it that way.  
  
That was the first time he'd punished me at home. I had never warranted a punishment at home but he had always said our arrangement would carry over to our home if necessary. He would never do it for something I did at work, only if I did something at home.  
  
Well, the time finally came. I quickly walked over to the love seat, removing my suit jacket. After placing it on the seat, I opened my pants then I shoved them and my underwear to the floor and bent over the back. I already see this is more comfortable than the hard surface of my office desk. I pressed my head into the cushions and wrapped my arms around my head. I knew this was going to hurt like hell. I braced myself, shutting my eyes tight. As I felt the first strap fall, my body tensed and I let out a grunt. I didn't want to cry out just then but I knew I would eventually.  
  
...He lays the belt so it covers both my cheeks at the same time. I do a mental tally of the strokes and see he's up to ten. I pray now it will end but of course it doesn't. He continues to twenty. I am sobbing now. God it hurts so much. My ass is stinging so bad. I know begging him to stop will do no good but I do it anyway. There's no way I can remain quiet now. I can't keep count any more as the blows still come. My legs are kicking and it's hard for me to stay put but I know if I don't, I'll get more....  
  
After what seemed like an eternity, the belt stops but the pain continues. My ass is on fucking fire. He never allows me to rub afterwards so as I feel him move from behind me, I'm left with the terrible burning. It makes me sob louder and my breath comes in hiccups. Soon I feel him beside me, gently rubbing my back and saying soothing words to calm me. I always like this part. He makes me promise to never go in his private room again without permission. Of course I promise. I would promise anything under his touch.  
  
Before we started a relationship, Walter always soothe me afterwards. He never seemed squeamish about it. You know-- getting all homophobic. I thought that a little odd but now I know why he wasn't freaked out by touching me-- he was getting off on it. I have to admit I was, too-- although I wouldn't admit it to myself.  
  
Yeah, we were your typical straight-as-an-arrow guys who would never admit to any homo-erotic feelings. Thank God for that one particularly bad session where Walter felt really bad about whipping me-- because he gave me some serious soothing afterwards. His hands seemed like they were everywhere at once. Even though I was in terrible pain, I couldn't help but react to his touch. I could feel myself getting hard. An intense urge came over me and I leaned up, quickly turning my head and caught his mouth with mine. To my surprise, the kiss was returned tenfold-- and the rest is history.  
  
So here I am, on my hands and knees looking under a locked door for a mouse. I sit up, falling back against the wall. I need to think about what to do. I bring my knees up, folding my arms on top of them.  
  
Should I wait for Walter to get back and let him take care of the little critter or should I take care of him myself-- which would mean going inside? He ordered me not to go in there ever again without permission or an extreme emergency. Was this an extreme emergency? I rake my hands through my hair, holding onto my head. What if the mouse was wreaking havoc in there? What am I saying? What could a mouse do in there? I mean, what do mice do? They gnaw on things and leave droppings all over, period. Lord knows-- his precious collection couldn't be harmed by the mouse. I don't think they can gnaw on porcelain...  
  
No, I don't need to go in there. I'm satisfied with my reasoning so I get up and go back to work on vacuuming the bookshelf. I climb the ladder to the top shelf once more, replacing the book that fell earlier.  
  
I vacuum a few more books then turn off the machine. As I do so, I hear what sounds like a mouse squeaking. I step down from the ladder and go to the door, putting my ear against it. Suddenly I hear it again-- there's no mistaking it's coming from the other side of the door.  
  
What the hell was it doing in there? What if it was wreaking havoc in there? Maybe somehow it's gotten inside the glass cabinet and was knocking over all the figurines, breaking them. Walter would never forgive me for standing idly by as a mouse destroyed his precious collection. I had to get in there and see what was going on. He would understand I was doing this out of concern for him and his collection.  
  
I repeat this in my head as a mantra as I go get two traps, complete with cheese. Then I find the key, open the door and step inside. This is the first time I had been in his den since that last time.  
  
Immediately my eyes go to the love seat where I paid the price for being in here without permission before. Suddenly a feeling of panic comes over me-- I had to get out of here before it was too late. As I turn to leave, from the corner of my eye I see the mouse scurry from behind the love seat and disappear under the cabinet.  
  
Yeah, _the_ cabinet...  
  
The base of the cabinet is a few inches from the floor. As much as I don't want to go anywhere near the thing, I figure this would be a good place to put one of the traps since the mouse went under there.  
  
I get on the floor, placing one trap down and I slide the other one under the cabinet all the way to the back. As I slide back out, my hand lands on the other trap and it snaps shut on my fingers. I yell and throw my hand in the air causing the trap to fly off. I grab my fingers and jam them into my mouth to relieve some of the sting. Suddenly, I hear the trap land with a crash. It was the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. Instantly, the pain in my fingers is a memory and all I feel now is the blood rushing to my head making me feel dizzy. My heart is pounding and my stomach is doing cartwheels. I'm temporarily paralyzed on my hand and knees with my head down so I won't catch a glimpse of anything I don't want to see.  
  
I glance at my watch and see it’s 10:52 AM. Walter will be back in a half hour. I don't want him to catch me in here so I have to get up. I slowly sit back on my feet with my eyes closed. I clasp my hands together and pray for all I'm worth.  
  
Please, God-- don't let any of the figurines be broken when I open my eyes. I don't want to die now. I promise I'll be a better person if you get me out of this. I'll even get rid of all my porn. Please help me, God....  
  
I end my prayer, swallowing hard. I'm afraid to open my eyes but I know I have to. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, I slowly open them. Before me is a medium sized break at the top of the cabinet. On the top shelf lay the trap with only one figurine standing next to it. My eyes drift down to the bottom of the cabinet, to find a figurine lying there. I wet my lips and swallow again. My eyes are now wide with fear as I take a closer look at the fallen warrior. The once whole figurine was now lying there in two parts.  
  
"God, no!!!!!!!" I scream aloud, grabbing my head. I lay my head against the carpet, pounding my fists and repeating over and over: "No, no, no!"  
  
After a while, I sit back on the floor with my hands braced behind me. My breathing has quickened and I'm trying hard not to hyperventilate. I close my eyes again in an effort to calm myself. I need to think. I open my eyes and look at my watch.  
  
"Oh, fuck, he'll be here in twenty minutes!" I get up from the floor and stare down at the devastation. There was no time to do anything about it now. I need for him not to find me in here. Maybe if I leave now and lock the door, I could buy myself some time to try to figure out what to do. I quickly get the key out of my pocket as I walk out of his den. I pull the door shut and lock it. I'm happy to see what happened inside can't be seen from the outside. I walk back to the bookshelf and see I only got one and a half shelves done, not the three he told me to do by the time he came back. Something else for him to get pissed about, I thought.  
  
I decided the best thing for me to do was to get out of there. If I stayed away for a while, it would give me more time to think about how to handle what happened. I could leave him a note explaining things and I felt it necessary to leave for a while to give him some time to cool off. I could get a room somewhere, just for a few days maybe. I quickly go to the bedroom and grab my overnight bag. I throw in some things to last me a few days, then I put on sneakers and grab my jacket. I find some writing paper in the nightstand—then I compose a short note to my lover.  
  
_Dear Walter,  
Something has happened-- I know you're going to be really upset about it. If it helps at all, it was an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen. I've decided to go away for a little while so you can have a chance to cool off before you get your hands on me. I can't tell you where I'll be but know I'm okay, at least for now. To make things a little easier, I'm going to tell you where you can go to find out what happened. I know as soon as I say "the den", you'll know. Please believe me Walter, I didn't mean it and I'm so sorry. I hope you can forgive me...in time.  
  
Love Always,  
Your Friend and Lover,  
Fox _  
  
I want to put the note some place where Walter will definitely find it. I figure sticking it on the hallway door would be a good place. I grab the note, along with a piece of tape and sling the bag over my shoulder and head on down. As I get to the stairs, I hear the front door opening.  
  
Damn-- he's back!  
  
I can't deal with this right now, so I run back into the bedroom.

 

"Fox, I'm back!" Walter calls out, shrugging off his jacket. He throws it on the couch then walks towards the hallway. "Fox?" he calls again. He gets to the bookshelf-- no Mulder. "Fox, I'm back. Where are you?"  
  
I can hear him downstairs calling me. I need to hide before he comes up here. I'm beginning to panic now. The only places to hide in the bedroom are the bathroom or the closet. Suddenly I hear him ascending the stairs. I make a mad dash for the bathroom, closing the door behind me and locking it. I keep the lights off so he won't think I’m in here then I sit on the toilet seat and listen. I hear him enter the room. He is still calling for me.  
  
That's when I notice I didn't have the note. I must have dropped it outside. I strain to hear what's going on out there but everything is silent, which makes my really nervous. Then I hear him stomp out the room, screaming my name again. I can tell he's angry. He must have read the note and was making his way to the den.  
  
I nervously begin to chew on my bottom lip. What was he going to do once he got a look at the broken figurine? I know if he finds me, I'm a dead man. God-- I wish I could get out of here!  
  
I go to the door and kneel. Placing my ear near the door, I listen for some sign he was coming back. After what seems like ages, I don't hear anything.  
  
...Maybe he left and I can sneak out and make it to a hotel....  
  
I carefully unlock the door then crack it a little so I can peek out to see if he was in the bedroom. Nope-- the coast was clear. I ease my way out the door and tiptoe over to the bedroom door. I stop and listen. After hearing nothing, I slowly open it taking a peek out in the hallway. No Walter. Okay--so I creep out and move to the stairs. I crouch down to see if I can see him in the living room. Nope. I tiptoe down the stairs, stopping at the bottom.  
  
Suddenly, I hear the phone ring and his voice coming from the kitchen. He's talking to someone on the phone. I begin to breathe hard, trying not to hyperventilate. I glance at the front door, wondering if I could get to it and open it without Walter seeing me. I figure it's worth a try since he's on the phone. I quickly move to the door, placing my hand on the knob and turning the smaller lock. When I go to turn the dead bolt, I hear him coming out of the kitchen.  
  
I panic-- and run from the door into the hallway closet. As I run in, my bag slams into the doorsill. I close the door and crouch down on the floor, praying he didn't hear me come in here.  
  
Walter walks toward the closet, believing he heard something. Right away, he thinks it must be Mulder and calls to him again.  
  
"Fox? Are you here?" he calls-- to apparently no one. Walter continues on his way past the closet into the living room.  
  
I hear him walk into the living room. I sit back on my heels, sighing. I can't believe this. I'm sitting in a dark closet, hiding. I rub my hands over my face. This is ridiculous. I should go out there and face him. After all-- he doesn't seem _too_ upset. Then again, he's alone. He's not the type to talk out loud to himself. He's probably boiling inside right now, just waiting for me to come through the front door so he can grab me and beat the shit out of me. No. I'm staying put.  
  
I look around at my surroundings. I can hardly see a thing-- it's so dark. I can make out a few things: a wooden folding chair, an ironing board and some boxes. Thank goodness we cleaned most of the stuff out of here. I wouldn't have been able to even get in otherwise.  
  
From the light coming under the door, I can read my watch. It's 11:34 AM. Resting my elbows on my knees, I rake my hands through my hair. I have to get out of here. I can't stay in here forever. I kneel up to the door and listen again. I carefully twist the knob and crack the door open. When I peek my head out, I can see Walter's feet as he sits on the couch in the living room. I don't hear the TV so he must be reading or just waiting and thinking about what he's going to do to me. If I came out now, he would definitely see me. I carefully pull the door shut and sit back on the floor.  
  
After an hour and a half I hear Walter coming toward the door. I'm filled with panic again as I try to hear what he is doing. From the light under the door, I can see his shadow -- he stopped just outside the hallway door. I don't breathe. Please... don't let him want anything from in here. I have this funny feeling he's going to pull the door open, so I kneel up and place my hand on the knob. I brace my feet against the doorsill and pull on the knob with both hands in case he decides to open door.  
  
I was right. I could feel the knob turning in my hands. I squeeze the knob as hard as I can and pull, hoping he’ll think the door was locked or stuck. After a few seconds of working on the door, Walter gives up and walks away-- but I know him. He's not giving up that easily. He'll be back. I have to find a way to lock this door but there's no lock on it. I squint in the darkness for something I could use. I see the folding chair. I grab it and jam it under the doorknob, making it secure.  
  
I move back to sit against the wall and wait. Finally I hear him again at the door. I was right. He went to get something to open the door with. I swallow hard as I hear an object being forced between the door and the sill. I know he can't get in but I know it's only a matter of time before he tries removing the hinges. It depends on how bad he wants to get in. Suddenly the picking stops and again he walks away and doesn't come back.  
  
Another hour passes, now it's 2 PM. I've been in this damn closet for 2 and1/2 hours. I was getting hungry and thirsty. It had been 7 and 1/2 hours since I'd eaten or had anything to drink. Of course I didn't pack any food but I rummage through my bag anyway in hopes I’d find something, even a small morsel... Nothing. Not even my sunflower seeds...  
  
This was really ridiculous now. Was I going to risk dehydration just to avoid getting my ass whipped? I contemplated this question. I knew eventually I would have to come out and face the music. I just wanted to delay it for as long as I could.  
  
Rationally, I knew I wasn't in any immediate danger with my health. I had enough air, but it was getting quite hot. I removed my jacket and pulled my sweaty shirt from my chest. Maybe if I could wait until Walter went upstairs to bed, I could sneak out and make it to that hotel. I glance at my watch. Christ, it was only 2:15 PM. Walter wouldn't be going to bed for another 9 to 10 hours, if he went to bed at all. There was no way I could stay in here that long. I had to get out.  
  
I grabbed hold of the chair I wedged under the knob and found I had done a very good job. I pulled with both hands and couldn't budge it. This was all I needed-- to be trapped in here! Either I would have to call out to Walter to come to my rescue or he would eventually open the closet door to find my dead rotting body. I try pulling the chair free again. I take a deep breath and pull for all I'm worth. My hands slip off the chair and I fall backwards, crashing into the boxes behind me. I lay there, not breathing.  
  
I don't know if he heard anything. I try to listen for his footsteps. I hear something moving then the footsteps. Damn, he heard me. I hold my breath and swallow. He stops at the door. I can see his shadow. I hear him twisting the knob and pulling on it. Since the chair is jammed in there real good, I know he can't open the door I stay where I am, not moving an inch.  
  
Then all of a sudden my cell phone goes off. Jeeeeesus! I scurry to get it out of my jacket pocket. After two rings too many, I find it and move deep into the closet, lying down behind one of the boxes in an effect to suppress the sound of my whispers as I answer.  
  
"Mulder."  
  
"Mulder, it's me. Why are you whispering?" Scully asks.  
  
"Scully, I can't talk right now."  
  
"Where are you, Mulder?"  
  
"I'm in a closet," I answer honestly.  
  
"Why are you in a closet?"  
  
"Scully it's a long story--I can't tell you right now."  
  
"Are you all right? I called you at the house and Skinner said he didn't know where you were. So I decided to call your cell," she said with concern.  
  
So that's who he was talking to earlier, I thought.  
  
"Yes, I'm fine... for now. I gotta' go," I say and disconnected the call.  
  
I sit up from behind the boxes and look at the bottom of the door. The light is still blocked. He's still there. Shit! I stay where I am, waiting. I know he must have heard me in here. Otherwise why would he be still at the door?  
  
"Mulder?" he says in a way too gentle tone.  
  
I don't move a muscle but my heart is about to pound out of my chest.  
  
"Mulder, I know you're in there. Answer me."

Christ, he's calling me Mulder, instead of Fox...not a good sign.  
  
The tone is a little stronger now. I know if I don't answer him, it's just going to make him more and more angry and I definitely don't want that. I'm in enough trouble as it is.  
  
I swallow hard and squeak out, "Yeah..."  
  
There's a pause and I think I hear him sigh. "Mulder, what are you doing in there?" The gentle tone is back and that's not good.  
  
Now I think about this question and the answer I'm going to give. I could lie and tell him that I accidentally locked myself in when I was cleaning. This wouldn't work because there's no lock on the door. I figure telling him the whole truth and nothing but the truth would be much better for my momentarily pain-free, cool, pale ass.  
  
"Um...hiding, Sir." I thought 'Sir' might be a nice touch.  
  
"Hiding...from what?"  
  
"From...you, Sir," I say, coyly.  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yes, you...Sir."  
  
"First off, cut the 'Sirs'. Second-- get the hell out of there, right now!"  
  
Brother, he sounds mad... I as sure as hell won't be coming out of here 'right now'....  
  
"I can't, Si--Walter."  
  
"Why the hell can't you?"  
  
I want to tell him the truth, I was too scared to come out but I figured I would just tell him the _other_ truth:  
  
"I stuck a chair under the knob and now I can't move it."  
  
"So-- that's why I couldn't get the door open," he realized. "I don't want to have to take the door off the hinges to get at you, so I suggest you try a little harder to get out yourself."  
  
Take the door off the hinges to get 'at' me? This does not sound good at all...  
  
"Si--Walter, I think it would be a good idea if I stayed in here for a while longer until you've calmed down."  
  
"Oh you do, do you? Well, I don't think so. I got back here at 11:15 AM and couldn't find you. Then I find this note saying you'd gone. Now I find you in a fuckin' closet-- and it's now 5:00 PM. I think I've had sufficient time to calm down. If you want me to stay calm, I suggest you get your ass out of there right now. Do you hear me?"  
  
"Walter...um...did you read the whole note?"  
  
"Yes, I read the whole note."  
  
"The part about..."  
  
"I said I read the entire note!" I could hear the anger in his voice.  
  
I sigh. "Walter I didn't..."  
  
"Mulder."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I am not discussing this through a door. When you have gotten yourself out of there, we can have a good discussion about what was in your note."  
  
I hear him getting up.  
  
"Until then, I'm giving you exactly 20 minutes to get your tail out of there. And if I have to take the door off the hinges, you are going to be very sorry. Am I making myself clear?"  
  
I move to a kneeling position behind the door. "Yes, S-Walter."  
  
I hear him walk away. I glance at my watch. It's now 5:11, I had until 5:31 to get out. I begin to push on the chair again, this time using my feet. I position myself next to the chair, placing both feet on it. Lying with my back against the wall, I bring my legs up and with full force kick the chair away from the door.  
  
I'm pleased with myself-- I was actually able to do it. My self-praise is short lived as I see the chair is in pieces. Ten-to-one, this was his favorite chair... I also realize I can get out of the closet now to meet my fate-- or should I say, my doom. I sit for a few minutes. After all, I had removed the chair in less than 5 minutes and I had another 15 before I had to be out of the closet. I wasn't going to rush these proceedings...  
  
I sit leaning with my legs drawn up and my head tilted back against the wall. I close my eyes, wetting my lips nervously. I hope he's not too angry about what happened. I hope he'll give me a chance to explain it was all because of a damned mouse. I would never have gone in there if it weren't for that thing. I think about how I would feel if my lover destroyed something precious to me. Accident or no-- would I be able to forgive him? I wasn't sure if I could but I know Walter was a bigger man than me-- in more ways than one.  
  
I gather my stuff and stand up. God, I'm stiff from sitting in here for so long. I know I still have time but I've been in here long enough. It's time for me to face the man. I take a deep breath and let it out then place my hand on the knob and push the door open.  
  
I squint from the light assaulting my eyes as I walk out into the hallway. I make my way to the living room and discover Walter's not there.  
  
"Walter?" I shout, standing in the center of the room.  
  
"Up here," the disembodied voice announces.  
  
I swing around in the direction of the staircase. For a few seconds, I just stand there seemingly dazed, staring up the stairs. He's in... there....  
  
The scene of the crime. My heart begins to beat wildly and my throat becomes very dry.  
  
"What's taking you so long? Get up here-- now!" the voice shouted, jolting me from my stuper.  
  
I throw my jacket and bag on the couch and take the stairs two at a time. Once I reach the landing I move hesitantly toward the room. My stomach is tensing up and I can feel one huge knot forming in it. I finally make it to the door. It's open, welcoming me back. I lean in and see Walter standing near the cabinet, arms folded, surliness definitely in tact. He glares at me as I appear at the door.  
  
"Get in here and sit down," he orders.  
  
As I walk inside I glance at the couch, then at him. I quickly move to sit, placing my hands on my knees. I keep my eyes on him, avoiding the urge to look at the cabinet. I can feel his gaze burning into me. He remains silent. I don't want to look at him but his eyes are forcing me to. God I don't want to be here in this room-- where it happened. I wanted so much to get up and run out. I lower my eyes from his face and look at my feet. I know he's still silently watching me. I can't take the silence anymore. I jump up and yell:  
  
"The mouse made me do it!"  
  
From his expression, I can tell he has no idea what the hell I'm talking about. He still says nothing but his face lets me know I'd better explain myself-- and quick. For the first time upon entering the den, I glance at the glass cabinet. Nothing has been touched. The trap was still where it landed on the top shelf and the fallen warrior was laying at the bottom, broken in half. My heart sank. I look at Walter and I can see the pain in his eyes and that pain goes straight to the center of my chest.  
  
"Sir, I can explain. It was all a terrible accident. I didn't mean for any of it to happen," I began.  
  
Walter's mouth twitches slightly. "Sit down," he says in a surprisingly calm voice.  
  
I obey, chewing on my lip.  
  
Walter begins to pace around the room, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. I can tell he's trying to figure out what to do with me. I feel tears sting the back of my eyes. My eyes follow his every movement. As he stops and turns toward me, my heart skips a beat and I swallow convulsively. Too bad I have no saliva....  
  
He stands there for a moment then goes to sit behind his desk. I feel as though we're back in his office at the Bureau and I'm about to get the reaming of my life.  
  
After making me feel even more uncomfortable with his intense glare, he finally speaks.  
  
"Talk."  
  
I quickly try to gather my thoughts. After a deep sigh, I begin.  
  
"Sir, it wasn't really my fault. I was doing what you told me and was vacuuming the bookshelves. I was holding one of the books and it fell out of my hand to the floor. I climbed down and went to pick it up-- all of a sudden a mouse ran over my feet." I pause for a moment, looking for a reaction at that bit of news. He didn't have any, so I continue:  
  
"Well...um...it ran right under the door of your den. I went to the door and peered underneath, but I couldn't see it. I didn't want it to do any damage to your stuff so I got a trap to catch him. I used the key you gave me and went inside." I pause again. I could really use some water right now. I clear my throat, swallowing dryly.

  
"I see the mouse again. When it notices me, it runs under the cabinet. I figured that would be a good place to put the trap so I slide it under, toward the back. As I'm getting up, my hand accidentally touches the other trap I put on the floor. The trap snaps on my fingers and I throw it off. It hits the cabinet, causing the glass to break. Apparently, Sir, the trap crashed through the top of the cabinet, knocked down your statue and it broke as it hit the bottom," I finish... then add:  
  
"Sir, please believe me, I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm really sorry. I know what the figurines mean to you. I was just trying to get the damn mouse," I say, trying to plead my case.  
  
Walter leans forward and places his arms on the desk, clasping his hands together.  
  
"Are you finished?" he asks, pursing his lips.  
  
"Yes, Sir," I say, chewing on mine.  
  
"What have I said about calling me Sir when we are at home?"  
  
"Sorry, S--Walter."  
  
He frowns, then gets up from behind the desk and walks over to me. I watch as he sits down on the arm of the couch, folding his arms across that chest of his. I'm looking straight ahead, only glancing at him from the corner of my eye. When he begins to speak, I look up at him with wide attentive eyes.  
  
"Remind me—what was the only reason I gave you to go into my den?"  
  
"I could only go in if there were an emergency."  
  
"Just an emergency?"  
  
"Um...an extreme emergency."  
  
"Uh-huh. And you felt there was an extreme emergency this morning?"  
  
He had that calm tone again and it was scaring the shit out of me. I hate when he talks to me like this and he knows it.  
  
"Yes, S--Walter."  
  
Walter shifts on the arm of the couch. "In what way was this an extreme emergency?"  
  
I swallow again. "Well, a mouse ran into your den and I didn't want it to do anything in there, causing any damage to your stuff." As the words came out of my mouth and I listened to them, I heard how stupid they sounded. What damage could a mouse do to anything in here? I'd better come up with something else or my ass is grass.  
  
As I was about to try for another reason, I was interrupted.  
  
"Fox, do you mean to tell me you thought a mouse could cause damage to the things in this room? In what way?"  
  
Okay, now let me go through the resources of my mind and come with everything I know about mice. Please don't let my eidetic memory fail me now...  
  
"Um...well, mice have a tendency to leave droppings everywhere they go and I figured...that would happen to your stuff...and I didn't think... you would have wanted...that...to...happen...and..."  
  
I know this isn't working. I really had no good reason for coming in here this morning. Why did I do it? There was really no good reason. So a mouse got in here. I could have just told Walter when he got back. I didn't have to go inside and set any traps. I know the real reason why I did it. It was out of sheer spite. I knew I wasn't supposed to go come in here without his permission or a damn good reason and this always bothered me. I can't stand to have someone tell me I can't do something or can't go somewhere. It was pure defiance. I might as well put a stop to all this shit and come clean.  
  
"Walter," I begin wringing my hands nervously, "it's all a lot of bullshit. I didn't really have to come in here to get that mouse. I could have waited until you got back then tell you about the mouse and let you take care of it. It wasn't an emergency situation of any kind," I finish with my head down. Even though I feel really bad about admitting this, at the same time I feel very relieved I told him the truth. I look up through my eyelashes and see he's looking at me with an inquisitive expression.  
  
"Then why did you come in here?" he asked.  
  
I contemplated his question. Regardless of the consequences, I have to tell him the truth.... The truth I just realized moments ago.  
  
Swallowing hard, I give him my answer.  
  
"It was out of defiance, Walter," I say, watching his reaction. His expression changes suddenly but I can't read it. I decide to explain some more.  
  
"It always bothered me you had this room off limits to me, _me_ of all people. I guess I've always resented it. When the situation with the mouse came, I knew you wouldn't have wanted me to come in here and do anything about it. I knew this wasn't an emergency but I just couldn't stand not being able to get in here when I wanted to. I tried to tell myself getting the mouse was reason enough to come in but it was really because you told me not to."  
  
When I decide to glance up at Walter, I see that he is now scowling at me. This is not good, not good at all.  
  
He gets up from the arm of the chair and walks over to the cabinet. He stands there staring at the damage. He looks sad. My heart breaks as I watch him. I caused him this pain and it hurts. I get up from the couch and slowly walk over to the cabinet. I look at the damage then look into his face. His eyes. I would do anything to change what has happened.  
  
"Walter...I'm so sorry. I..."  
  
Walter cuts me off with a raised hand. I stand there watching him for a moment. He looks at me then speaks.  
  
"Did I ever tell you about these figurines, Fox?"  
  
I shake my head.  
  
"They are Samurai Warrior Figurines. They're made of pure Nippon Japanese porcelain. Each is hand painted and extremely rare. Only seven sets of nine were made. I came across some of them while on leave in Japan. I had never seen anything like them. As you can see, they're beautiful. I saw this one," he gestured with his hand, "in a little shop in one of the towns we stayed in. I just couldn't resist it. Over there at that time, it wasn't very expensive, even though the woman in the shop told me there weren't that many made. I just think she liked me and wanted to give me a break. So I bought it and made sure I didn't let the other guys see it. I knew they would razz me good it they found out I bought this.  
  
"The woman told me there were eight others out there to complete the set. After that, everywhere I went I looked for the others. I found two more over there and when I came back Stateside, I found three more. About two years ago through an Internet search, I came across this last one on Ebay." He was speaking of the fallen warrior. "I got a really good deal, too. Now each one is a collector's item selling for major sums but as a complete set you're talkin' serious money. I never really considered how much money they were worth, I just thought they were beautiful and wanted them for that reason. This one made seven-- all I needed was two more to complete the entire set."  
  
"But now I ruined it for you. Because of me, now you're back at having to get three. Walter, is there any way for me to find you another one on Ebay or something?"  
  
He watched me for a while, then said, "No. I was told the other ones were with owners who had complete sets and they were not selling. The longer you wait, the more money you can get for them. The guy I got this one from didn't have a complete set and needed the money." He walked away from the cabinet, rubbing a hand across his naked scalp. Then he stood at the window, looking out through the blinds.

 

I moved to the cabinet and reached in to pick up the fallen warrior. I joined the two pieces together in my hand. I thought about Crazy glue. That might look okay, but it wouldn't be worth anything any more and Walter would always know it was broken. I carefully placed the pieces back in the cabinet then left the room to get a broom and dust pan to clean up the broken glass. When I return, Walter is still at the window, clearly not looking at anything. When he hears me sweeping, he turns around.  
  
"Leave it," he says.  
  
"Walter, this needs to be cleaned up," I tell him.  
  
"Fox, I want you to leave it."  
  
"It will only take a minute," I say as I continue to sweep up the broken glass.  
  
"I SAID I WANT YOU TO LEAVE IT! I WANT YOU TO LEAVE IT ALONE AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT!" Walter screams, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin.  
  
I get up from my crouched position and stare at him. He's really angry, angrier than I've ever seen him. I drop the broom and pan on the floor and quickly move toward the door. After seeing I'm going to do as he says, he turns back to the window. I give him one more glance then I walk out the room.  
  
I stand in the hallway for a while, not knowing what to do or where to go. I thought about leaving again and going to that hotel like I had planned to do before. I go downstairs to the living room where I put my bag. I then pull out my cell phone and punch in a number. After reaching my party and making arrangements, I end the call, grabbing my bag off the couch along with my jacket. I shrug into the jacket and sling the bag across my shoulder. With a forlorn look down the hallway, I open the door and go outside, closing it behind me. Then I walk to my car and sit inside for a while, thinking. After a few seconds, I start the ignition and drive off towards...Georgetown.  
  
End of Chapter One.


	2. Coming Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder realizes that he has been harboring a lot of resentment and now he must come clean with himself and his lover.

Georgetown 7:03 PM

  
It was around 7 o'clock when I made my way to Georgetown, stopping along the way to pick up some Chinese food from a nearby restaurant. I pulled up in the parking lot, got out of the car and carried the food into the building. After taking the elevator, I reach my floor. I stop at the apartment door positioning the bag of food in my arm then knocking with my free hand. I listen as I hear the sound of footsteps coming toward the door, then an eye peering through the peephole. As the door is being unlocked and opened, I hold up the bag of food.

"Hey, Scully. I brought dinner," I say, moving past her into the apartment.

I placed the food on her dining room table then turned toward her. I watched as she closed the door, looking at me with concern.

"Mulder, are you all right? I was concerned when I got your phone call about wanting to come over," she said, moving closer to me.

"I'm fine, Scully," I tell her with false amusement. "Is it okay I'm here? I mean-- I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" I asked seriously.

"No, Mulder, it's okay. I was supposed to be at mom's this weekend but she forgot she'd made plans with Bill. She and I will get together next week."

"Oh... good," I said, dropping my bag on the floor and shrugging out of my jacket. I walked to the table and prepared to take the food out of the bag.

"I hope you haven't eaten yet. I got you some Sesame Chicken and Won Ton soup. Chicken and Broccoli for myself... Oh-- and some steamed dumplings-- gotta' have those," I said, trying to sound as jovial as possible. As usual, I couldn't fool Scully. I glanced at her and saw she still had a concerned and worried expression on her face.

"Mulder," she said with her hand on my arm, stilling my movement, "what's happened? Did you and Skinner have a fight?"

I stopped and looked into her eyes. Yeah, Scully knows about us. She's known for quite some time: about two weeks after I moved into Walter's place and we knew our relationship was serious. She took it well. We had her over for dinner. I think Scully thought it was just dinner with her partner at her boss' place. Soon enough though she discovered I was actually living there and Walter and I were a couple. Later when she and I were alone, she told me she was a little disappointed I hadn't told her when it started. I said I didn't want to say anything to her until I was sure and Walter suggested we tell her together-- so that's what we did.

She was happy for us, but she knew nothing about our punishment arrangement. Even back at the Bureau we managed to keep it a secret-- and I would like it to stay that way...

I looked away from her. "Yeah, we did."

She moved her hand to my back and I felt her making little soothing circles. "I'm so sorry, Mulder. I'm sure things will be all right once you guys have had of chance to cool off some."

"Yeah, I hope so," I said miserably.

"Mulder, when I called you earlier you said you were in the closet. Why were you in the closet?" Scully asked with her hand still rubbing my back.

As I was about to answer her, my stomach growled loudly. We both laugh.

"If it's okay with you Scully, can I answer your question after I get some food in me?" I asked, continuing to take out the cartons.

"You poor thing. Of course you can," she said as she went to get some plates and utensils and placed them on the table. "I don't have any beer but how about some iced tea? I made it fresh this afternoon."

"Scully, I once said to you if you had iced tea, it could be love-- and now I know it is," I said, smiling and giving her a wink.

She smiled back, blushing a little as she opened the frig and took out a pitcher. "Mulder, reach up there and get two glasses. Thanks," she said, bumping the door shut with her hip.

I got the glasses and put them on the table then sat down. I began dishing out the food while Scully poured the iced tea.

We sit in companionable silence as we eat. Well, it wasn't exactly companionable. There was a kind of tension in the air. I knew Scully was waiting to ask me about being in the closet. I catch her looking at me every now and then, but she doesn't say anything. I'm not ready just yet, so I continue to eat and ignore her glances. Even though I'm starving, I try to eat slowly so as to delay the inevitable.

"Hey, Scully-- you want that last dumpling?" I asked, peering into the carton.

"No, I'm done," she said, wiping her mouth and downing the rest of her iced tea.

With some dread, I noticed she's finished and is now waiting for me. I pretend to have trouble picking up the dumpling with the chopsticks. Scully watches the show then suggests:

"Mulder, why don't you just use a fork?" she asked, handing one to me.

"Oh no, I can't use a fork, Scully. I can't let these two pieces of wood get the best of me," I said as I successfully grasped the dumpling and popped it whole into my mouth. As I chew, I realize I have eaten everything and there isn't anything else I can use to delay our little talk...

"All right, Mulder. Now you've gotten some food inside you. How 'bout telling me the closet story?" Scully asked, leaning forward with her elbows on the table.

I swallowed what was in my mouth then drank the last of my tea. After wiping my mouth and releasing a semi-loud burp, I suddenly need to go to the bathroom. I jumped up and excused myself, quickly disappearing from the table.

Once inside, I sat on the seat with my face in my hands. What the hell was I going to tell her? If I told her the truth, that I was afraid to face Walter for fear of getting my ass whipped, then she'd know about our arrangement. I really didn't want her to know about that. It was just too damn embarrassing...

But if I don't tell her the truth, what do I tell her...? That I locked myself in? If so, then why didn't Walter get me out? After all, he was home... No, there wasn't a thing I could say that would justify my being in a closet other than the truth. I raked my hands through my hair then got up. I decided to use the facilities since I was there then I washed my hands and went back out.

When I get back to the dining room, Scully's no longer there. I hear water running in the kitchen. I pick up the remaining containers from the table and carry them in. As I enter, Scully looks over at me.

"If there's anything left, you can put it in the frig. If not, chuck it in the garbage," she says, motioning in the direction of the can.

After we finished in the kitchen, Scully grabbed my hand. She led me out to the living room and sat me down on the couch. She sits next to me.

"Now, what's going on?" she asked, arching her eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" I say innocently.

"Mulder, it's obvious you're trying to avoid telling me why you were in that closet. So, what's going on?" Her usually calm eyes are now an intense ice blue.

I sighed and looked down into my hands, which are wringing nervously. Scully sensed my anxiety and covered her hands with mine. "Mulder, it's okay. You know you can tell me anything. Just tell me," she said calmly.

I took a deep breath and grabbed her hands. Kissing them, I looked into her eyes. "Scully, I really messed up this time. I was in the closet because...I was afraid to come out." I look for her reaction.

She looked at me curiously. "Afraid? Why were you afraid?"

"Well, ya see, earlier I did something I knew would make Walter really upset with me. I knew if I came out, I would be in big trouble," I told her.

"Big trouble? Mulder, you make it sound like Skinner would spank you or something," she said, amused.

I looked at her, completely serious. I see the amused expression fade from her face and now she's looking at me in shock.

"Mulder, you can't be serious. Skinner wouldn't actually spank you, would he?" she asks, incensed.

I can feel my face flushing. This is so damn embarrassing. I released her hands and got up from the couch. I walked over to the window. Keeping my back turned, I let out a ragged sigh and tried to explain things to her.

"Scully, Walter's been spanking me for a while now. It's an arrangement I made with him some time ago." I paused, sensing her behind me.

"Mulder, I don't understand. Why would you allow Skinner to spank you?" she asked, resting her hand on my back." You're a grown man."

I pulled away from her touch, not being able to take it. "Scully, you know how I can be sometimes. You know how headstrong and stubborn I get when I want to do something. How I disobey direct orders and protocol if they got in the way of my plans. Skinner wanted to stop this behavior before I got myself or someone else killed because of it. The only way he saw to do it was to make this arrangement with me." I went back to sit on the couch, not looking at Scully.

She followed me back to the couch and sat, grabbing my hands. "Mulder, you just said you were headstrong and stubborn. What would make you agree to an arrangement like this?" she asked, trying to catch my gaze.

Finally, I turn my head to look at her. I can feel tears sting the back of my eyes.

"It's because...I'm afraid," I said into her questioning eyes. I continue before she can ask me anything. "I am afraid of doing something really stupid next time and doing just what Skinner said I might do. It's not so much I'm afraid of hurting or killing myself. It's because I might hurt someone else or... you, Scully."

"Me?" she asked, gripping my hand tighter.

"Yes. I know you worry about me and hate it when I go off half-cocked. I know I worry Walter, too. I never cared about anyone worrying about me before, but I do now. I don't want to hurt you or Walter by getting myself hurt-- or killed. I need someone to reel me in-- so I decided to let it be Walter."

Now it was Scully's turn to get up and pace. She released my hand and walked over to the window.

"Mulder, why didn't you tell me this was going on?" she asked, turning to look at me.

I lowered my eyes. "Scully, I couldn't. It was all too embarrassing. I mean, a grown man being spanked by his boss. Come on-- how could I have ever told you?"

"You have a point but I still wish you had," she said, moving back to the couch and sitting down. "So, what did you do to get him so angry with you?"

I looked at her and swallowed. "I broke one of his figurines."

A look of horror formed on her face. "The porcelain Japanese figurines?!" Scully asked.

Now I had a look of shock. "You know about them?!"

"Yes. Skinner showed them to me—we got into this conversation about collectables when I was at the house for dinner. I had no idea he was so into collecting—I got a big clue once I saw the figurines themselves. They were in his den in this beautiful glass cabinet... What happened Mulder? How did you break it?"

I couldn't believe it!! He let her into his den and showed her the figurines-- and not me!!

"It seems I'm not allowed in his den," I said sarcastically. "I went in anyway-- a stupid mouse scurried under the door. I accidentally flung a mouse trap on the cabinet, breaking the glass and a figurine," I concluded, staring down at the floor.

"Oh, Mulder-- that's horrible. But it was an accident. I'm sure Skinner will understand," Scully tried to reassure me.

I snicker. "Scully, you have no idea how wrong you are. He gave me explicit orders not to go into his den. I was forbidden. He only allowed me in if there were an extreme emergency-- and he made it very clear this didn't fit that criteria."

"But Mulder, you went in there for a good reason. You wanted to get the mouse. I'm sure he wouldn't punish you for that."

"Scully, I went into his den before and he whipped me good for just going inside without permission. This time I went in-- again without permission-- and broke one of his precious figurines. I think I can expect to feel a great deal of pain in my immediate future, don't ya think?" I asked assuredly.

Scully sighed. "Well, if that's true then why are you here? Shouldn't you be lying on your stomach at home right now, avoiding any contact to your butt?" she asked, trying to suppress a snicker of her own.

"That would be the case if Walter hadn't kicked me out." I tried to hold back the tears I felt threatening to come.

"Why did he kick you out instead of punishing you?"

"He was really angry. I think it was too much this time. I think he's had it with me. I always knew he loved those damned things more than me," I said, pouting.

Scully put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. "Mulder, don't be ridiculous. Skinner doesn't love his figurines more than you."

"Then why did he get so mad at me for breaking one of them?!" I yelled, getting up from the couch and pacing again. "You should have seen him, Scully! He was madder than I have ever seen him." I raked my hands through my hair in frustration.

Scully got up and came over to me, holding my arm. "He was angry, Mulder. He had every right to be. You destroyed something he really cared about but I know he doesn't care for it more than you. Skinner really loves you, Mulder. He'd do anything for you. He was just upset by what happened. He'll get over it in time-- you'll see."

I couldn't help it-- a single tear made its way down my cheek. Scully, seeing it, wiped it away with her thumb. She then reached up to grasp my head and placed a tender kiss on my forehead.

"I don't know what to do, Scully. I'm...scared. I don't want to lose him," I admitted ruefully.

"You won't. He just needs some time. Stay here tonight-- you can call him in the morning. I'm sure things will be different after you’ve both have a good night's sleep," Scully said, rubbing her hand up and down my arm.

Who was she kidding? I wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight...  
After she got me settled on her couch, I laid awake staring at the ceiling. Every time I closed my eyes, I would see his face. First it would be sad and disappointed then turn angry and enraged. I kept hearing his voice yelling at me to get out of his sight. Then I hear him add: 'and never come back'... I know he didn't actually say that but I could sense he wanted to.

This time, you really did it, Mulder. You really blew it. He doesn't want to see your sorry ass anymore...

I felt another tear slide down my face and soon I found myself quietly sobbing. I turned on my side and crawled up into a ball. At some point during the wee hours I fall into a restless sleep, my only thought was hoping Walter would forgive me.

I awoke early from a really bad dream: When I went back home, Walter had all my stuff on the front step and the lock on the door had been changed... I shuttered again remembering the dream then sat up, swinging my legs to the floor. I had the urgent need to pee, so I staggered into the bathroom. When I returned to the living room, Scully was standing near the couch, yawning.

"I'm sorry, Scully-- did I wake you?" I asked, going to sit back down on the couch, rubbing my hands over my face.

"No, you didn't wake me, Mulder. I woke up early thinking about you and Skinner," she said as she came over to me and caressed my hair. "Are you okay?" she asked.

I smiled up at her. "Yeah, I'm okay-- but I think I should go," I said, getting up to get my pants.

"Mulder, you don't have to. Where are you going?" Scully glanced at the time on the cable box. "It's only 5:17-- the sun's barely up. "

"I don't know yet. All I know is I need to get out of here," I said, pulling up my pants and putting on the rest of my clothes. I glanced at Scully and she looked disappointed. I walked over to her, placing a hand on the side of her face. "Scully, I want to thank you for letting me stay and for the encouraging words. I just need to go now."

"Are you going back home?" she asked, folding her arms.

"No, not yet. I think I need to go for a run to clear my head-- then I'll go back home." I closed my bag and shrugged into my jacket.

"Mulder, don't stay out too long. I'm sure Skinner will be worried about you," she says with concern.

"Right now, I doubt that-- but I won't be out too long. I promise," I say, kissing her on the cheek and walking toward the door. As I turn the knob to open it, she called to me.

"Mulder, please contact me later--let me know what happened. I wish you luck-- I'm sure everything's going to be all right."

I opened the door. "Thanks Scully, I hope you're right," I said with a weak smile then walked out the door.

I get to my car, throwing my bag in the trunk then sat behind the wheel. I think about what I'm going to do. I do feel like a run and I have my running clothes in the trunk. I start the ignition and drive back home.

But I don't go back to the house. Instead I drove to a nearby running track on a college campus. I usually ran here. I changed inside the car then began my run. I'm not alone. About 7 people are there. Thank goodness the track is large.

As I started running, I passed a woman who looked to be in her sixties. Then I passed a man in his forties. As I passed him, he looked over at me and I could tell he was trying to pick up his pace to match mine.

I'm not here to run a race... I'm here to run out my demons....

I'm running at a good pace now. Sweat is beginning to run down my face and I could feel my clothes sticking to me. I look ahead and see a young guy in his early twenties, probably a student at the college. I purposely picked up my pace to catch up to him. When I do, he glances at me. I give him a nod. He smirks at me and runs faster-- and pulls away from me.

Okay, if he wants to play, I say to myself. I start to pick up the speed and soon I'm alongside him. He looks to his side, frowning. Now, it's my turn to smirk. We both try to pass one another. Sometimes I'm in the lead, sometimes he is.

Suddenly I get this tremendous cramp in my calf, causing me to fall to the ground with a mighty thud. I grabbed my leg, writhing in pain. When I opened my eyes, I saw the kid had stopped and was leaning over me.

"You okay, Mister?"

I look up at him. "Yeah, I'm fine-- just got a cramp," I said, trying desperately to massage it out.

"Sorry 'bout that. I shouldn't have raced you," he said, helping me to my feet.

"It's okay. I wanted to." I'm still trying to walk it out. The kid follows me.  
"Yeah. You were doing pretty good for a while there. Did you used to run when you were younger?" he asked innocently.

Younger...? I glared at him. "Yeah, I did some track...when I was younger," I said sarcastically.

"I didn't mean anything by that. I just meant you're still real good. I hope to still be that good when I'm your age."

I smirked at the kid's half-assed compliment. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but I'm okay now. Don't you have some studying to do?"

He looked at me, a little irked. "I guess so," he says as he runs off down the track.

I looked after him. I felt bad about brushing him off like that but he was beginning to bug the hell out of me. I limped away. By the time I got back to my car the cramp was almost gone. I didn't bother to change out of my sweaty clothes. I glanced at my watch and saw it was 8:45 AM. Walter was most definitely up by now. I took a deep breath and headed for home.  
Or at least I hoped I could still call it home...  
The memory of my nightmare comes back, making my palms sweat as I grip the steering wheel.

Finally I pulled up in front of the house. His car is still in the driveway, so I know he's home. My stomach tightens instantly. I sat for a while, closing my eyes in an effort to calm myself. When I opened them, I got the courage to get out of the car and get my stuff out the trunk. After closing the trunk, I stood staring at the house. I wondered-- what is he doing in there? I hope he's not gathering up my stuff for the "Good Will"...

Slowly I made it up the walkway to the front door. Thank God I had my key.... I pulled it out of my pocket, trying to stop my hand from trembling so the key would get in the lock. I turned the lock and pushed open the door. I tried to be as quiet as possible so Walter wouldn't know I was back.

I peered inside looking for him then I stepped in and closed the door carefully. I listened for signs of him, but nothing. He's not downstairs... Usually on Sunday mornings, Walter would be lying on the couch reading the paper. I'm usually in the chair next to him reading the sports section.

He must be upstairs... I looked to the top of the stairs, feeling that tightening in my gut again. With a deep breath, I slowly ascended the stairs. I know I need a shower and the only one we have is upstairs. I must talk Walter into installing a shower on the first floor.... That is, of course, if I'm still living here....

I reached the top of the stairs and stopped to listen for him again. Nothing. This was weird. His car was in the driveway so he had to be home, but where was he? I crept down the hall to our bedroom and peered inside. No Walter. Shit! What the fuck! I was beginning to get nervous now. I knew Walter wasn't the kind of man who would do anything to himself out of despair, but after the state he was in, I wasn't so sure anymore.

My heart was beating frantically in my chest. I peeked into to bathroom. No Walter. I dropped my bag and went back out into the hall. The only room I hadn't check was the den or should I say, his den. I really didn't want to go in there so soon. I mean-- it was still probably off limits to me, even more so now, but it was the only place I hadn't checked.

I tread as lightly as I could down the hall to the den. Once at the door, I swallowed and took a deep breath. I turned the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open. I looked inside.

There I found my lover, asleep at his desk. Before closing the door, I looked toward the cabinet. The glass had been swept up but everything else was untouched, including the fallen warrior laying at the bottom of the cabinet.

I backed out of the room quietly and return to the bedroom. I stripped off my sweaty clothes and hopped into the shower. I know I should’ve taken a hot bath for the leg cramp and my achy muscles but I wasn't in the mood just then. I only wanted to get cleaned up. After toweling off, I stepped out the bathroom and grabbed some clean sweats and a T-shirt. Dumping my sweaty clothes in the hamper, I then padded barefoot downstairs to the kitchen.

I put on a pot of some much-needed coffee then I sat at the table, rubbing my temples and thinking. After a few minutes, the smell of hot steaming coffee filled the room. I got up from the table and got a mug from the cabinet. When I turned back around to the table, I saw Walter standing in the doorway. My heart stopped for a moment, along with my breathing. He looked tired-- but wonderful. For what seemed like forever, we stood there just staring at each other. For a split second, once I turned around I saw a mixture of shock and relief on his face. It quickly disappeared and was replaced with...sadness.  
The first to break the silence was Walter.

"I smelled coffee," he said simply.

"Yeah, I made a pot. Would you like some?" I asked, eagerly getting his mug from the cabinet.

"Yeah, sure."

After placing his mug on the table and I filled both mugs to the brim. When I turned back around from putting the pot back on the stove, Walter was taking his mug off the table. He looked into the mug, as if the hot brew could give him some answers, then he looked up at me.

"You should call Scully," he said. "I waited for you...when I woke up and you weren't back, I called her. I was.... She said you’d just left... She wants you to call her," he said abstractly then turned to walk out.

God, he was really worried about me. He waited for me. He wanted me back.

"Walter?" I said, stopping him. I heard the pleading in my voice and I'm sure he did, too. Walter looked back at me but said nothing. We looked into each other's eyes. I saw pain and I know he saw the same pain in mine. I look away and when I look back again...he was gone.

I stood there for a moment, stunned. What just happened? We spoke but said nothing. I quickly ran out of the kitchen, stopping when I saw Walter slowly walking up the stairs. I'm in clear view but he doesn't acknowledge me. I move to the bottom of the stairs and stare up at him. I want so much to cry out to him but I don't. I can't. The thing that hurts so much is that he doesn't even look angry anymore, just really despondent. I want him to still be angry with me, to yell at me. I want him to punish me for what I've done. I can't handle silence and he knows it.

After giving Scully a quick call to tell her I was home and safe-- at least for the moment-- I pad up the stairs to his den. My heart is pounding as I approach the door, which is open. I peer in and see him reading some files. I stand there for a while. He doesn't even look up. I know he knows I'm standing there. He just wants to make me sweat-- and I am. I cleared my throat. He looked up, glancing at me through his glasses.

"Sir, I mean, Walter...can I come in?" I asked, swallowing.

He glanced at me, nodded his head, then went back to his reading.

I creep into the room and stand in front of his desk. I wait until he looks up at me. Finally he does, looking very annoyed and removes his glasses.

"Fox, is there something I can do for you?" he asked, staring intensely at me with those big brown eyes.

I looked at him, appalled. "Yes, there is!" I shouted, feeling suddenly quite angry. I turned away from him and walked over to the loveseat, then swung back around. "What's going on here, Walter?"

"What do you mean?" Skinner asked, his tone much too calm.

"Cut the bullshit! You know what I mean!" I yelled with my hands on my hips.

Skinner got up from the desk and slowly walked toward me. Suddenly I felt somewhat panicked, like I want to run from the room-- but I don't. I stand my ground, even when he gets directly in my face, so close I feel his breath on my lips. In any other circumstance this would have made my cock jump but now it's only making me defensive. We stand eye to eye until he finally speaks.

"You'd better sit your ass over there," he said, pointing to the loveseat. "Calm yourself down and talk to me like a rational human being. Is that clear?"

I stand there for a while, feeling his eyes melting me then I back away and sit on the loveseat. I glare up at him. I'm still really pissed but I hold my temper—I hold it if I know what's good for me....

"Now," Skinner says, going back to sit behind his desk. "What is it you're trying to say to me?"

I took a deep breath then began: "I was trying to find out why you're not saying anything about what happened yesterday, why you seem to be ignoring the whole situation."

"Oh, is that what you think? Because I'm not addressing what you did yesterday, I'm acting as though nothing happened?"

I nod.

"Well, you're very wrong. I'm not addressing what happened yesterday because when I wanted to address it, you weren't here."

"You kicked me out!" I scream.

"Come off it, Fox!" Skinner shouts back. "I told you I wanted you out of my sight. You were the one so bent on leaving."

"Yeah, I was bent on leaving because I didn't want to have to deal with what happened and what you would do to me once you found out," I admitted, somewhat ashamed.

"So you chose to not deal with anything. You chose to leave. Is that what you meant to do, Fox? To run away from your problems instead of facing them?" Skinner asked calmly, again causing me to calm down myself.

"The truth is...I didn't want to face your...belt," I said, feeling myself flush. I lowered my eyes to the floor. I can sense Walter coming toward me.

"Fox, were you that afraid of punishment you would hide in a closet and run away instead coming to me with what you had done?" he asked, disappointed. He came to sit on the loveseat next to me.

I jump up, away from him. "Walter, I know we made this arrangement where you punish me when I do something wrong or disobey you-- but it's not easy. I mean-- it's really hard to know you did something and are going to be thoroughly punished for it. Then I have to wait around for it to happen," I admit, facing him with my arms akimbo.

Walter remained on the loveseat, sighing. "Fox, I know it's hard but I thought when we made this arrangement you would be able to come clean about what your discrepancies and face the consequences of your actions," Skinner said rationally.

I moved over to his desk, picking up a glass paperweight I gave him as a present. I put it back on the desk and turn to look at him with moist eyes.

"Walter, I thought I would be able to do that, too. I guess...I'm just not man enough," I said, turning away again.

Walter came to stand next to me and grabbed my hand. I gently wrenched it from his, moving away.

"Walter, please don't! Don't treat me nice! I fucked up! I don't want you to be nice to me!" I yell as I pace.

"Then what do you want me to do, Fox?"

"You know, Walter! I want you to be angry with me and punish me for what I've done!"

Skinner leaned on his desk with his arms folded. "Tell me-- exactly what did you do?" he asked, malice lacing his voice.

I looked at him, incredulous. "Okay-- I'll tell you. First, I came in here without your permission and broke one of your precious figurines-- not to mention the cabinet. You want to know the real reason why I did it?" I asked, standing in front of him. I was feeling insolent and yet I wanted--needed-- to come clean.

"Why...? Because-- you were chasing a mouse and accidentally broke the cabinet causing one of my figurines to break?" Skinner asked acerbically.

"No. I did it because I couldn't stand the fact I wasn't allowed in here! I did it out of spite, Walter! Sheer spite!" I stood over him, feeling very powerful and relieved he finally knew the truth about the way I’d been feeling all this time. As I continued to watch him, I could see something wash over his face. I couldn't really read it but I think it was realization and...guilt.

"Yeah, you did mention that before. So-- you disobeyed me because you didn't like not being allowed in here," Skinner said, pain lacing every word.

"Yeah, bottom-line," I said, hanging my head, feeling bad I had to admit that. "It's always bothered me." Looking around the room, I continued: "When you told me this was your private place and I wasn't allowed inside, I was hurt." I glanced at Walter, seeing the astonished look on his face. "Yeah, hurt. I couldn't believe you would keep me out-- me, your lover. Eventually I had to accepted it, thinking this, after all, was your house and you had the right to have a room for yourself."

"Fox, this isn't just my house. It's yours, too," Skinner said sincerely.

"Oh, really? If I'm to consider this to be my house as well, then why was I not allowed in one of its rooms? If we share this house then why aren't we sharing every room in it?" Now, I was glaring.

Skinner sat with his head down, contemplating his lover's words. Mulder made a lot of sense. It didn't seem fair there should be an off limits room in a house supposedly shared by the two men. Skinner needed his space. Always had-- but that wasn't the only reason. He had to admit now another very important reason was that he was afraid for his precious figurines. He knew he could get his space by just telling Fox he wanted it but he didn't have to go so far as to make the room off limits to him.

Skinner knew if he was completely honest with himself, the real reason he didn't allow Mulder in his den was because he was afraid his figurines could be damaged. He didn't want to believe Mulder would purposefully damage them, but accidents had been known to happen. He figured if he just kept the room off limits to everyone, including Mulder, there wouldn't be a chance of anything ever happening...

Skinner raised his head, looking up at his irate lover. "Fox...you're right. This house belongs to both of us. It was wrong of me to deny you access to any part of it. I'm so sorry for doing that, but there's one thing I don't understand. Why didn't you say you were uncomfortable with this before?" Skinner asked, his deep chocolate eyes filled with concern.

"Walter, I didn't want to do anything you would be uncomfortable with. Our relationship was new and I was moving into your house. I know you tried to make me feel like it was my house, too, but it was still yours, your territory I was moving in on. When you said your den was off limits, I figured I'd just have to accepted it-- or so I thought."

I raked my hand through my hair and considered what I'd just said. Skinner was right, I should have voiced my feelings. I should have told him I hated having a room I couldn't go into in a house that was supposed to be mine as well. All this time I resented it, probably deeper than I realized. Instead of saying something to Skinner, I held it in-- and now look what's happened...

"Walter, you're right. I should have said something instead of letting all this resentment build up resulting in what happened yesterday. I'm sorry, too," I said, eyes wide, hopefully projecting the sincerity I felt.

"Fox," Skinner said, lowering his head again and wringing his hands, "I want to tell you the reason--the real reason-- this room was off limits to you."

I watched Skinner's body language and saw he was very nervous and tense. I went to sit on the loveseat next to him. He didn't seem to notice as I did so, and began to explain:

"Fox, I figured I made this room off limits to everyone, my figurines would remain safe. When you came to live with me, I decided not to change this rule. I thought you would understand and accept it without a problem. I was wrong to assume that of you," he finished, looking at me.

I popped up from the seat again, pacing the room and shaking my head. "I knew it! I knew you didn't trust me around those damned things!"

"Fox, it's not just you. It was anybody. Basically I was just paranoid. Truth be told, I didn’t want anyone to be anywhere near them," Skinner said, clearly by his tone attempting to make me feel better.  
It wasn't working.

"That's a lie, Walter! Scully told me you brought her in here and showed her your precious collection!" I shout righteously.

Skinner sighed out loud and smoothed his hand across his naked scalp. "Fox, I brought Scully here and showed her my figurines because I wanted her to see them. I was with her the whole time so I knew nothing was going to happen to them while she was here. I made sure she left with me so nothing would happen. I was being very careful."

"You could have done the same with me," I said, my voice filled with pain. "When I came here to visit the first couple of times, you never showed me a thing. I only knew there was something in here of value. I never got the tour. I never got to see anything, not a thing-- even after I moved in here! All you gave me was a big ‘NO ENTRY’ lecture—and I have to save the damned things in case of an emergency! That’s all I got, Walter! I only saw what was so dear to you when I snuck in. When you found out you gave me a spanking that I still remember to this day. Why... why didn't you even want me to see them?" I asked, tears stinging my eyes.

"Fox, I thought not letting you see them would make the situation better for you. I don’t know—easier somehow. You wouldn't have a reason to be compelled to see them because you wouldn't have known what they were," Skinner said, trying to explain his actions.

"Good Lord, Walter!" I said, chuckling to myself. "You've known me this long-- and could actually think by not letting me-- of all people—in on a big secret it would make me uninterested in finding out what it was?"

Skinner let a small smile curl his lips. He did see how ridiculous my little hypothesis of his actions sounded. After all, his lover was Fox Mulder, a man whose interest was only peaked—no, intensified to an insane degree-- by secrecy and unavailability. Skinner shook his head.

"Fox, I don't know what I was thinking. My not letting you see them or allowing you to come in here freely only made things worse. I can see that now. It just made you want to come in here and see them even more. And Fox," he said, getting up to stand near me, "I wanted you to see them. I really did. I hated keeping something that meant so much to me away from you." He grasped my hand in his. "And I'm sorry for treating you the way I did. I overreacted to the situation. I was just so angry and it was wrong of me to punish you when I was that angry," Skinner said despondently.

I let my hand remain in his. "You know, after you got so angry with me about coming in here again, I began to...feel that..." I swallowed hard as a lump formed in my throat, "you cared for those things more than...me." I looked at him through my eyelashes.

Skinner squeezed my hand then lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. I fought the urge to pull away. I still don't want the tenderness. I don't deserve it.

"Fox...my God, how can you think that?! Yes, I do care for the figurines a great deal, but never—ever-- more than I care for you. I love you, Fox. You are my life," he stated, holding my hand against his face and looking into to my eyes sincerely.

I looked at him for a long moment. I heard the words he said but for me—at that moment, they were just words... Words I wanted so much to believe....

"Walter, I hear what you're saying but I'm really confused about the whole thing. I don't understand what's happening. You're telling me you're sorry for making this room off limits to me now and for spanking me before..."

"Yes. I am sorry for that, Fox," he assured, “and I...”

"...I'm not through. I want to know-- what happens now? Are you saying you're not angry with me anymore for coming in here without permission? And what about the...broken figurine...? Are you saying...I'm not going to be punished for breaking it? " I asked, confusion in my eyes.

"Fox, I realize all of this was my fault. If I allowed you to come in here from the very beginning, none of this might have happened."

"Walter, how can you say that? I did come in here and I fucked up. I don't see how your giving me permission to come in here would have changed that. What happened probably would have happened anyway," I stated, still at a loss by this recent turn of events.

"It might or might not have, we don't know. I just know your ill feelings and resentment were based on an unfair rule I made which led you to act out and blatantly disobey me. Everything else you did was based on that. So you see, it all stems from my actions, not yours. So no, I'm not still angry with you and I don't think you deserve to be punished for something not entirely your fault."

Skinner began to kiss my fingers in an effort to make things up to me. I was too stunned to really appreciate the sensation. Walter, my Walter, was actually admitting he made a mistake in judgment? All of this was actually his fault and not mine? I felt my head reeling from it all.

Just a few hours ago, I was sure I was getting my ass whipped for doing the most horrible thing known to man and now...nothing? Now he was being nice to me. Skinner was still sucking on my fingers when I interrupt him.

"Walter...um...Walter, we still need to talk about something."

"What, baby?" he asked, sucking a finger deep within his mouth. Now I felt something stirring but I need not to be distracted. This wasn't over yet.

"Walter, please," I say, pulling my hand from his mouth. "We still need to discuss a few things."

Walter sighed and gave me a gentle glare. "What is there to discuss?" he asked.

I stood up and sat on the edge of his desk, folding my arms. "What about the figurine? It's still broken," I said, glancing at the cabinet.

"Don't worry about that. It's my problem now."

"So you're saying you're not still pissed at me for breaking it?" I asked, suspicious.

"Right."

"But..."

"No, buts," he interrupted. "It's over. What's done is done and nothing can change it, so I don't want to hear another word about it. What else?" he asked, somewhat irritated at my persistence.

I watched him for a while, mulling things over in my mind. "I was just thinking this being all your fault now and you being the one to admit to making some mistakes...well, I was wondering about our arrangement and whether it only applies to me. What if you were the one who did something wrong or made the mistake?" I asked, feeling an amazing sense of power.

Skinner's big mahogany eyes become even larger as he realized the implication behind my question. I crossed my ankles and watched him squirm. With an imperious smile on my lips, I waited for his answer.

To be continued in Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's comment: I know there wasn't any actual spanking in this story, but... just you wait Henry Higgins, just you wait. ;-)


	3. Getting The Job Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected change happens with their discipline arrangement and Mulder does something he never thought he'd do.

WALTER'S DEN

Mulder _watched as Walter's eyes went from wide to narrow in an instant. His lover now had a suspicious look on his face..._

 

"Why are you asking me whether the arrangement applies to just you?" Walter asked, now glaring.

 

It was my turn to do a little squirming. "Well, I was just thinking with our little arrangement, it's always me being punished for something I did wrong. What happens if you do something wrong?" I asked, uncrossing my ankles.

 

"Let me get this straight. You want to know whether or not I can get my ass spanked for doing something I did wrong-- am I right?"

 

"Well...yeah," I blinked innocently at him.

 

"And if I may ask, who is supposed to be the one to spank my ass?" he asked mindfully, folding his arms.

 

Clearing my throat, I answered: "Since it's our arrangement, I guess that would be...um...me," I gulp.

  
Walter gave me a look and got up from the loveseat. He stood for a while with his hands on his hips, looking toward the window. Wide eyed, I watched him, wondering what he was thinking. He kept his back to me and walked over to the cabinet. Standing there, he looked down at the fallen warrior. I felt my throat tightening and a knot forming in my stomach. I knew he was still pissed about that. All his talk about it was his problem and he would take care of it was bullshit. I knew he still wanted to tan my hide for breaking the stupid thing. I knew as soon as I brought up the possibility of him being punished, he'd change his tune.

  
Walter slowly turned away from the cabinet and glanced at me. My heart skipped a beat for a second as he moved behind his desk and sat down.

  
"Fox, take a seat. I think we have some things to discuss," he said in full AD tone.

  
I watched him for a moment then moved from the desk and sat on the loveseat. He leaned forward on the desk, clasping his hands.

  
"Fox, what are the conditions of our arrangement?"

  
"That I, Fox Mulder, am to be punished by you, Walter Skinner, as you see fit whenever I disobey a direct order or risk my life or the lives of others in a way that deem foolish or irresponsible."

  
"And please tell me-- where in that arrangement does it state this form of punishment refers to me in any way?"

  
I looked down at my shoes, then back at Walter. "It doesn't...Sir."

  
"If you knew that, then why did you ask me if the arrangement applies to only you?"

  
I let out a sigh and wrung my hands nervously. "Walter, I was just yanking your chain...um...I just wanted to hear what you would say if I mentioned the idea of you being punished for doing something wrong."

  
"So-- you had no intention of carrying out any punishment yourself?"

  
"No, Walter, of course not! I was just playing with you. You know, joking," I said, giving him a weak smile.

  
"I see," he said, leaning back in his chair not taking his eyes off me. "Fox, it seems to me in the past 24 hours you've done and said a lot of things just for spite, to see what I would say or do. Is this your way of trying to tell me something? Are you trying to voice your disapproval about the way things are but having trouble being honest with me about it?"

  
"Sir...I mean, Walter-- I don't understand what you mean," I lied.

  
Walter slid his hand over his scalp then leaned up again. "Did you or did you not tell me you came in here yesterday morning-- not to capture a mouse but because you hated the fact I didn't allow you in here? Out of spite—and for no other reason-- you came in, knowing you’d be disobeying my direct order not to?" he asked sternly.

  
"Yes," I said, hanging my head.

  
"And just moments ago, did you or did you not ask about a specific point you knew did not exist in our arrangement just so you could hear what I would say about it?"

  
"Yes, but I told you it was a joke. I was just teasing you."

  
"Fox, I want you to think about my next question and give me an honest answer. No joking or teasing. Do you understand?" Walter said, giving me a dead cold stare.

  
I nodded, swallowing hard.

  
"When you asked me that question, did you expect me to say the arrangement didn't only apply to you so you would have the opportunity to punish me?"

  
Of course he already knew the answer was 'yes'.... Who wouldn't welcome the chance to spank his spanker, to punish the punisher? And it wasn't just to get back at Walter. It was because it only seemed fair-- if he did something wrong he should be punished for it, too.

  
I glanced at him through my eyelashes. "Yes," I answered simply.

  
"So you believe I deserve to be punished for my actions?"

  
"Well, yeah. You did say if you didn't make up that dumb rule about me not coming in here, none of this would have happened. You said you made a mistake."

  
"In that case, do you feel you are not at fault for anything that happened here?"

  
I knew it! I knew he would throw this back at me somehow. I knew he couldn't not punish me for any of this.

  
"I didn't say that," I said defensively.

  
"So you are at fault?"

  
I jumped up from the loveseat and began an enraged pace. "Walter, why don't we stop all this dancing bullshit! Why don't you just come out and say you're still pissed at me and want to whip my ass!" I yelled, facing him.

  
"Fox, it's not as simple as that. We're doing all this dancing bullshit-- as you call it-- until you can finally be honest with me. I want you to own up to your feelings and intentions about why all of this happened. It's not just about me creating a dumb rule that wasn't fair or you couldn't obey. I think you know that. This was about you wanting me to know you were pissed about it but couldn't be honest and tell me yourself. This wasn't about you simply joking about having the arrangement apply to me as well. It was about you wanting to see me be punished for something I did wrong."

 

He came from behind his desk and stood in front of me, close but not touching. We looked into each other's eyes.

  
"Fox, I don't want you to think this is all about you breaking one of my figurines."

 

I gave him a slightly shocked expression. He observed it, then continued: "No, it's not about that. I know you have a hard time believing that but you have to trust what I'm saying to you. It's about what led up to that happening. That upsets me. I'm bothered by the dishonesty, the deceit and distrust-- on both our parts. Our relationship, both private and disciplinary, shouldn't include any of these things. Once it does, terrible things are bound to happen, like they already have."

  
He was right-- Damn him-- about all of it. I wasn't being honest with him about not accepting that rule and he wasn't being honest with me about not trusting me. So we now know we have a fucked up relationship. Now what?

  
I shrugged, digging my hands in the pockets of my jeans. "Okay, I agree with everything you've said. We haven't been honest with one another. So -- where do we go from here?" I asked, pursing my lips.

  
"Well, the first thing we need to do is to reestablish honesty and trust," Walter said simply.

  
I folded my arms. "And how are we going to do that?"

  
"Well, for one thing I need to show you I trust you in this room with my figurines. So-- to that end, you are now allowed in here whenever you want."

  
"Gee. Thanks," I said sarcastically, looking around the room.

  
"Now, it's your turn. What can you do to be honest with me?"

  
Studying his face, I chewed on my lip contemplating my answer. I looked away for a moment. Taking a deep breath, I looked into his eyes.

"I guess I can be really honest and say I deserve to be punished for what I did. I was the one who decided to act out my anger by coming in here and disobeying you outright. I could have chosen another way to tell you I was pissed about things—I guess by...uh...telling you I was pissed about things. I chose to do it this way causing what happened to happen so I should be punished for it." I hung my head, embarrassed to meet his gaze.

  
"Okay. That's a good start, Fox. I'm proud of you for your honesty. I know it was difficult to admit that to me," he said, squeezing my shoulder.

  
"Well, it was no more difficult than you admitting your rule was a mistake," I said, looking at him.

  
"And about that," he said, dropping his hand from my shoulder and turning from me. "To be totally honest with you, Fox, what I made you go through with that rule for all these months should not go unpunished. I know now it was unfair and hurtful to you in more ways than one," he said, his voice weak with emotion.

  
Walter's voice was low and barely audible, but I heard every word. I felt my mouth gape open in disbelief. Could he be actually giving me permission-- to punish him?

  
I slowly moved behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. I felt the muscles jump at the unexpected touch. Gently, I squeezed it, turning him around to face me. I searched his eyes and see the honesty and candor in them.

  
"Walter, are you saying you want me to...actually...punish you?" I asked him, eyes wide.

  
"Yes, that's exacting what I'm saying. It's only fair, Fox."

  
I winced, backing away from him. I raked both hands through my hair, thinking about the ramifications of such an act. I wondered if I could actually go through with it. I stood with my hands on my head and looked at him.

  
"Walter, I don't know if I can. I mean-- spank you? Really spank you...? Me...?"

  
Walter walked over to me. I dropped my hands as he grabbed my shoulders. "Fox, I know you will do what needs to be done-- what I need you to do," he said with a confidence I didn't feel.

  
As usual, his confidence in me strengthens my belief in myself-- so I nodded.

  
"Good," he said, giving my shoulders a final shake, then walked away.

  
"So...who...who's going to go first?" I asked in a shaky voice.

  
"First things first: have you eaten anything today?"

  
I looked at him surprised. I didn't expect him to say that. I shook my head 'no'.

  
"I thought as much. Nothing is going to happen until you and I eat something. All I had was that half cup of coffee you gave me this morning so I think we're both in need of nutrition. After the day we've had, I have a feeling we're going to need some more energy-- don't you? Come on," he said, walking out of his den.

  
I stood there for a while, somewhat stunned by the strange turn of events and the even stranger evening I saw unfolding before me. I glanced at the cabinet sighing loudly, then left the room. I walked down the stairs and heard him in the kitchen. When I appeared in the doorway, I saw him peering into the refrigerator. He leaned up, noticing me.

  
"I think we have some leftovers... let's see. There's some spaghetti and meat sauce and..." he pulled out something wrapped in foil and smelled it. Making a face, he threw it in the trash. He continued to search through the frig then stood up, closing the door. "I think calling for take-out would be better. Whatta' ya' feel like, a pie or Chinese?" he asked, waiting for my answer.

  
I shrugged, not feeling hungry in the least. Instead I have this huge knot in my stomach that is about to make me double over....

  
"Walter, I'm really not hungry. Can't we just get things over with?" I asked, almost pleading.

  
"Fox, it's now way after noon and you haven't eaten anything. You may not feel weak now but you will. I don't want you passing out on me during our session. Now, you're going to get some food in you before we do anything, is that clear?"

  
"Crystal," I answered. Folding my arms, I said, "A pie."

  
"What?"

  
"A pie. Order a pie with sausage and extra cheese on my side." I turned and walked out of the kitchen.

  
I went into the living room and threw myself on the couch. I listened as Walter placed the order, then ended the call and came into the room. I kept my eyes straight but I could still feel him watching me. He went over to the recliner and sat--still watching me. I looked over to him.

  
"What?" I asked curtly.

  
"You want to say something, I can tell. What is it?" he asked, knowing me all too well....

  
I sighed, putting my hands behind my head. "I don't know about this, Walter. I really don't think I can...spank you."

  
"Why? Don’t you think I deserve it?"

  
I snickered. "Oh no, I know you deserve it. I don't think I can actually do it. I've never spanked anyone in my life," I admitted, feeling inadequate.

  
"You don't have a problem hitting people. I've felt your right-- personally," he said, rubbing his jaw.

  
"That was different. I was under the influence of a chemical at the time. Besides-- I only hit people in self defense or as a means to an end-- under the guise of a Federal officer, not some bad ass schmoe."

  
"Well, you can think of this situation as a means to an end-- my end. You can do it as an agent if you'd like. I can even call you Agent Mulder as you're letting me have it," Walter teased.

  
I glared at him. "How the hell can you joke about this? This is serious, Walter!"

  
"Okay. Sorry-- I was just trying to lighten the mood, to make things easier for you," he apologized.

  
"Was the first time hard for you?" I asked, leaning forward on my knees.

  
"Shit yeah."

  
"Really? I couldn't tell. You seemed the same as you always are, confident and efficient. And boy-- were you efficient," I said, recalling the day.

  
"Well, appearances are never what they seem. I've learned to hide my true feelings under a veneer of rigidity. As you've come to learn, it's all bullshit. I'm just a big ol' teddy bear," he said, giving me a rare and wonderful smile. I smile, too, despite myself. His tactic to lighten the mood is working. Damn him.....

  
"I was a basket case the first time," he continued. "That morning, I knew what I was going to do. I agonized over the decision to use corporal punishment on you for a whole weekend. When I called you to my office that Monday..."

  
"Monday, March 29, 1999, at 9:42 AM-- to be exact," I interrupted. “Um...sorry, go on...."

  
He gave me a look, then continued: "As I was saying-- after a torturous weekend of decision making, I called you into my office that Monday. I decided the way I was going to do it and what I was going to use. I had to psyche myself up, go into full AD mode. To be honest, the actually spanking is a vague memory right now. I guess I was functioning on auto-pilot," Walter admitted, recalling the moment.

  
"Well, I can't say the same. I remember it vividly, like it happened only yesterday. I was so shocked when you told me what you were going to do to me. I couldn't believe it. Then when you actually did it...well...let's just say I remembered it for a week every time I sat down-- and long afterwards." I squirmed, feeling the incredible stinging all over again.

  
"Well, you know what they say. You never forget your first time," he said, having the nerve to grin at me.

  
"Is that supposed to be funny?"

  
"Yeah-- well, I thought so."

  
I glared at him again and go into full sulk mode, pouting and everything.

  
"Fox, I know you're worried about later but there's nothing to worry about. Trust me, everything's going to be fine," he reassured.

  
I watched him for a moment. "Why the hell are you being so cheery and positive about this whole thing anyway? You're going to be getting your ass whipped just like me and you don't see me being the happy camper about it. Aren't you the least bit concerned or worried?"

  
"No, not really, Fox. It's just not my way to dwell on things and worry. I've already accepted what's going to happen. There's no sense being angry or depressed about it."

  
"That’s obviously the difference between us. I dwell and I dwell. Big time. I dwell, then I worry, then I dwell again. The last thing I want to be right now is positive and cheery," I said, sulking again.

  
Walter got up and sat beside me on the couch. He rested a hand on my thigh, rubbing it. "I know, Babe. It's okay. You deal with this any way you want." He slapped my leg. "I have an idea: Why don't you think about where you're going to put me and what you're going to use? That should keep your mind focused on something else besides worrying for a while."

  
I looked at him, still not believing his attitude. I thought about what he told me to do. When I suggested-- in jest-- spanking him earlier, I never thought about what it would be like to actually do it. Now, thinking about it, I was actually getting excited. It was an incredibly thrilling idea. I began to envision him with his pants and briefs down around his ankles...no naked, completely naked... Yeah that's much better. I can tell him to do that... can't I?

  
"Walter," I asked timidly, "can I chose any place and any instrument?"

  
"Yes. It's all up to you, Fox."

  
"Even the amount of clothes you will or won't be wearing?" I asked, trying to hide a sinister grin.

  
"Yep, even that," he answered, narrowing his eyes at me.

  
Well, I thought to myself--this is turning out to be a very interesting situation. The idea of having A.D. Skinner stripped naked and waiting for me to warm his ass was making my cock throb. Yep, I was getting really turned on by the idea. He was right, thinking about this was causing me to not dwell on what was freaking me out about the whole thing. Damn him.

  
I began to think about all the places he has put me in the past, recalling what implements he’s used on me. I didn't want to use the same things he used or put him in the same places he put me. I wanted to be different. Unique. I began to think of a few things when the doorbell rang.

  
"The pizza's here," he said, going to the door. I watched as he paid the delivery boy and carried the pizza inside. He placed it on the coffee table. "There are a couple of beers in the frig," he said.

  
"Got it," I said, getting up and going to the frig. I also grabbed some extra napkins and plates then returned to the living room.

  
We ate while watching TV. I actually managed to wolf down three slices. I guess my newly found interest with this whole thing had given me an appetite. Walter ate two and a half slices. Once we were finished, my stomach began doing flip-flops. I prayed the pizza wouldn't make a return trip. Walter stood up and saw me put my hand on my stomach.

  
"You okay?" he asked with concern.

  
I looked up at him. "I think I ate too much," I said, rubbing it.

  
"You want some Bi-Carb?"

  
"No, I'll be okay."

  
"Probably just nerves." He took the empty pizza box off the table.

  
"Ya' think?" I said sarcastically then let out a loud burp.

  
"I think that woke the dead. Feel better?" he asked, stopping before going into the kitchen.

  
"Yeah, 100% better," I said scoffing.

  
"Good. Grab the cans and plates and bring 'em in," he ordered, leaving the room.

  
I grabbed the empty cans and plates, taking them to the kitchen. I handed Walter the plates to put in the sink and threw the cans into the recycling bin. He quickly scrubbed the plates then stuck them in the dishwasher. He shut off the tap and dried his hands with the dishtowel. He looked back at me, smiling. I nervously wrapped my arms around my body and just looked at him, my eyes wide. I can't bring myself to smile back. He threw the towel on the counter and walked over to me, grabbing the back of my neck.

  
"Come on, Boy, let's get this over with," he said, pushing me through the door and back to the living room. He released my neck and went over to the TV, turning it off. "So, who's going to go first?" he asked with his hands on his hips.

  
I swallowed hard. "Do...Do you mean to get spanked or to spank?" I asked nervously.

  
"To spank."

  
Okay, let me think about this, I say to myself. If I spank him first and get a little carried away, he could retaliate on my ass when it's his turn. If he spanks me first, I could get it over with and then be able to concentrate on him. And maybe he'll take it easy on me, thinking I will take it easy on him. Thank God he gave me the choice. I chewed on my lip for a few seconds-- then gave him my decision.

  
"You go first," I said, feeling my stomach tighten and my mouth go dry.

  
He studied my face for a moment. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

  
"Yes, I'm sure. Can we just start, please?" I asked, anxious and a little annoyed. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my body. I began to pace around the room from nervous energy.

  
"Okay, okay," Walter said. He places one of the dining room chairs in the middle of the room then looks over to me. "Come here," he commands as he opens his belt and slides it through the loops.

  
I forced my legs to move and managed to stand before him, glancing down at the belt he's doubled in his hand.

  
"Pull down your sweats and underwear-- if you're wearing any."

  
I dug my thumbs inside the waistband of my sweats and pushed them down my legs until they dropped to my ankles. No underwear, so now I'm naked from the waist down. My T-shirt afforded me some dignity as it covered me. I observed him sitting on the chair, dropping the belt on the floor. He then pats his thigh.

  
"Come on, get across 'em."

  
I swallowed dryly then knelt down. I crawled across his firm thighs until my hands were touching the carpet. He shifted his legs to raise my butt then pushed my shirt up. My ass is now in the perfect position to be warmed. Suddenly, I felt a slightly callused warm hand rub my still cool, pale cheeks. I clenched them in response to his touch. The hand moved all over them, fingers exploring the hot crevice.

  
Every now and then I felt a light slap, then back to caressing and squeezing. Walter was well aware of what playing with my ass did to me. I could feel my cock stiffening against the rough fabric of his jeans. I wondered if this was going to be an erotic spanking instead of a disciplinary one. I was soon to find out.

  
"What are you being spanked for"? Skinner asked, still caressing my ass.

  
"For not being honest with you," I answered, trying to suppress a moan.

  
He gave me a light slap on my left buttock. "Elaborate," he commanded, going back to caressing.

  
"I disobeyed a direct order and went into your den because I was pissed about not being allowing in. I lied to you and said it was because of a mouse when all along it was because I was angry about the rule."

  
He gave me another slap on the right buttock then rubbed the spot. "Resulting in...?" he urged.

  
"Resulting in one of your figurines getting broken, not to mention the cabinet being damaged." I felt the familiar tightening in the center of my chest as I said this to him.

  
"Good. This spanking is for your dishonesty-- which resulted in a very bad situation. You will hereafter be totally honest with me and tell me the way you feel about things. Is that understood?" he asked, resting his hand just below my left cheek.

  
"Yes, Sir, I understand."

  
I felt his hand move from that spot then come crashing down on it again. The sting was incredible. I let out a sharp hiss. About ten quick slaps fell on the same spot. The spot where I sit....

  
I hate when he concentrates on this area. He knows where to make his spanks count. After another five in the same place, I kick my legs and beg him to hit a different spot. Just to spite me he gave me five more there, then stopped. I was breathing hard, clenching and unclenching my cheeks in an attempt to relieve some of the sting.

  
His hand now rested on my other cheek in the same spot. I can't help a loud groan. He lifted his hand and slapped it down on that spot ten times-- then stopped. Then five more--stop-- then a final five....

  
I knew what to expect from my other cheek, but it still hurt just the same. I think the anticipation made it worse. I began to whimper as low as I could from the stinging in the tender area. Then I felt his fingers pressing down on the right side of my butt near the crack, pulling it open. I know what he's about to do and begin to wiggle my ass frantically....

  
"Walter...please not this time! Please don't spank me there, please!" I begged.

  
"Keep this ass still or I will double the slaps," he threatened.

  
He didn't have to tell me twice. I held my ass still, clenching it and squeezing my eyes shut. God-- this is going to hurt... The next thing I felt was the sharpest sting ever on the inside of the sensitive tender flesh between my cheeks. He gave me a few more, peppering up and down the crevice. I didn't hold back my sounds of agony. I let him-- and anyone within hearing distance-- know how much this hurt. Finally it stopped and I let out a ragged sigh, breathing hard. I felt his fingers prepare the other side.

  
"Noooo! Walter please...don't...please!" I cried, tears about to fall from my eyes.

  
"Fox, you can take it-- and you will."

  
He repeated the same on the other side of my butt crack. Slap after excruciating slap fell on the tender area. Tears were sliding down my face now. I tried not to cry out so much this time. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Instead I sobbed as quietly as I could. Finally it stopped and I stopped kicking my legs, but my ass continued to squirm. I felt him patting and rubbing my back, trying to calm me.

  
_Thank God it's over...._

  
Then with a spasm that gripped my entire body, I remembered he had removed his belt and laid it on the floor. Jesus-- he's not finished, I said to myself and began to sob louder.

  
"Shhh, shhh, Fox... take it easy, it'll all be over soon," he said, continuing to rub my heaving back. He took his hand off my back and stood me up. I quickly wiped an arm over my tear-stained face, watching as he bent to pick up the belt. I began to breathe rapidly as my heart pounded in my chest. Skinner looked at me and put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it in an attempt to stop my shaking.

  
"Breathe, Fox...that's it...nice and slow...in and out," his voice was calming and he managed to stop me from hyperventilating. "Fox, I know it's been a while since I've had to punish you. This is why you're having a rough time right now-- but I know you can take it. Just calm yourself and let me finish, okay?" he asked, still squeezing and rubbing my shoulder.

  
I managed to nod, trying to do what he said and calm down. Walter put the chair back at the dining room table then removed two large pillows from the couch. He threw them on the floor next to each other then looked back at me.

  
"Fox, go lay on the pillows on your stomach. Make sure your chest is on one and your hips are on the other."

  
I glanced at the belt doubled in his hand. I stepped out of my sweats and went to lay myself across the pillows like he said. I brought my arms up and laid my head on them.

  
"Pull your shirt away from your ass," he ordered.

  
I did as I was told, replacing my arms under my head. I saw Walter move to stand next to me, letting the belt fall open.

  
"Now, try not to move too much. I don't want the belt to land in the wrong place."

 

With that, Walter raised the belt and let it fall on the center of a still pale buttock. Quickly, a mean red welt forms. Another hit-- and another nasty little welt matches its partner on the other cheek. Each one feels like burning fire. I pressed my arms around my head, crying out inside them.

  
It didn't take long for Walter to develop a steady rhythm with his strokes: a back and forth rhythm which made welt after welt rise on my twitching ass. The burning and stinging was unbearable. Whenever he got in a good stroke, I raised my head and let out a cry of pure agony. I figured if I let him know just how much it was killing me, he might stop out of sheer pity. It's never happened before-- but there was always a first time....

  
At last, after making my ass feel like two burning globes of flame, he stopped. Of course, my ass continued to move and I continued to sob in my folded arms.  
He gave me a few minutes to calm down. I guess my theory about him going easy on me so I would go easy on him flew-- no, was hurled out the window. I finally got my breathing back to normal then felt his hand on the back of my head, soothing and caressing my hair.

  
"It's over, Baby, all over. I'm proud of you," he whispered.

  
I turned my head to look at his face. His eyes were gentle and moist. He moved his fingers to lift a few sweat-damp strands from my forehead then leaned down to find my lips. He gave me a gentle reassuring kiss. He reached for a bottle from the coffee table and held it up for me to see.

  
"I bought some ointment. It's for soothing burning, irritated skin. Do you want me to put some on? I promise to go easy."

  
Since my ass definitely qualified as burning and irritated, I nodded, closing my eyes. Next thing I felt was his hand gently spreading the cool ointment over my abused cheeks.

  
God-- it felt good.... I groaned and hissed, wetting my parched lips. Walter usually used some kind of cream on me afterwards but this felt different. Healing. Once he applied the ointment all over my ass, he removed his hand to a groan of disappointment from me. Then he put the bottle back on the table. Sitting back on his haunches, he watched me. I lifted my head to look at him.

  
"Feelin' better?" he asked with a smile.

  
"Yeah, 100%," I lied.

  
"Good." He got up and left the room.

  
I took the opportunity to regain my dignity. I got up, wincing as my shirt slid over my ass. Carefully, I retrieved my sweats and pulled them up over my sore butt, wincing some more. Thank God I didn't have on jeans. My butt began to itch a little, so I rubbed it with both hands.

  
Walter came back in, carrying a glass of water. I immediately stopped rubbing, blushing fiercely.

  
"Here, drink this," he said, handing me the glass.

I took it, downing the water in one gulp. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and gave him back the glass. "Thanks," I said, sniffling, "and thanks for that ointment. It really helped."

  
"Good, I'm glad. We were all out of the cream so when I went to pick up some more, I noticed this. It seemed like it would help--despite the extra cost."

  
"Well, it did. Thanks," I said again, feeling somewhat awkward with the small talk.

  
"It's all right. Look, when you're ready, I'll be in the den," he said, jogging upstairs.

  
I watched him go up the stairs and away from the awkwardness. I walked stiffly into the downstairs bathroom to get cleaned up. As I leaned on the sink and looked at myself in the mirror, I saw my eyes-- red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Tear stains streaked my face. Christ, I'm a mess, a big ol' mess....

  
I turned on the tap and filled my hands with cool water, then immerse my face in it. I did it a few more times then shut off the water and dried my face with a towel. I glanced back in the mirror. I look somewhat better. I placed the towel back on the rack and left the bathroom.

  
I stood in the living room for a while, looking up at the top of the stairs towards his den. Now, it's my turn. I can feel butterflies. No, not butterflies... more like big winged bats flying around inside my stomach. I carefully sat on the couch for a few minutes, thinking about what I was about to do. After about 10 minutes, I got the nerve to get up from the couch and ascend the stairs. When I reached the opened doorway, I stopped. He looked up at me from his desk.

  
"You can come in, Fox. This room is no longer off limits to you," he said, getting up and walking toward me.

  
I nodded and moved inside. "I guess old habits are hard to break," I said, smiling.

  
"Well, you'll get used to it. So, are you ready?" he asked nervously, rubbing his hands together.

  
"Y-Yes, I think so."

  
"You wanna' do it in here or...?"

  
"I was thinking maybe...in the bedroom, if that's okay with you," I said apprehensively.

  
"Fox, this is your show. Whatever you want, I'll do."

  
That statement went straight to my cock. Whatever you want, I'll do....

A statement like that could really be dangerous if said to the wrong person... Walter was lucky I was the one he said that to and not some deranged sexual deviant, I thought to myself.

  
"Okay-- then why don't we go into the bedroom," I suggested-- timidly instead of commandingly or strongly.

  
I let Walter lead the way. Just as he reached the door, I remembered something and turn to go back downstairs, telling him to go inside. I ran down to the living room and grabbed the ointment Walter used earlier and returned to the bedroom.

 

When I arrived, he was standing at the window. He swung around, glancing at the ointment in my hand. I put it on the night table. We stood facing each other for what seemed like forever. Walter saw my difficulty-- and rescued me.

  
"Fox, have you decided where you want me?" he asked delicately.

  
"Um...yeah. Can you go and lie face down on the bed?"

  
I watched as Walter obeyed. Just as he was about to place a knee on the mattress, I stopped him.

  
"Walter, wait. Before you get on the bed, I need you to...um...take off...your...clothes." I finally got it out, feeling my face flushing with embarrassment.

  
This whole thing was so weird. This man standing before me is my lover. I've seen him naked hundreds of times. I've even told him to strip just for my viewing pleasure, but now it's like-- we're strangers....

  
Walter looked stunned for a moment then asked, "All of them?"

  
I simply nodded and he began to remove them. First pulling his knit T-shirt over his head then loosening and removing his belt. He opened his jeans and pushed them and his briefs down his hips, stepping out of them. He pulled off his socks and placed his clothes on a chair then laid face down on the bed--just as he was told. He rested his head on his arms. I moved closer to the bed to take in the sight that lay before me.

  
_Mulder, he's not lying there waiting for you to fuck him. He's there for you to punish him-- to get that firm, tight, gorgeous ass spanked...._

  
I took a deep breath, preparing to do what I needed to do-- what the man lying on the bed needed me to do. I don't want to disappoint him by being a big wimp. I climbed onto the bed and straddled his back facing his butt.

  
"Am I too heavy?" I asked, concerned.

  
"No."

  
"Let me know if I am," I said, leaning forward and resting a hand on each buttock. I began to rub and squeeze his cheeks. I heard him moan and I slapped his ass.

 

"You're not supposed to be enjoying this," I said, continuing to knead the firm globes.

  
"Sorry," he mumbled into the mattress.

  
"What are you being punished for?" I asked.

  
"For not trusting you and prohibiting you from coming in my den," he said, lifting his head so he wouldn't mumble.

  
I began to slap his right butt cheek-- lightly at first, causing it to jiggle with every smack. I continued until the flesh began to turn pink.

  
"Do you feel this?" I asked, continuing to smack his buttock.

  
"Yeah, but..." he began.

  
"But what?" I asked, stopping.

  
"I don't think you're slapping me hard enough, Fox. I feel it, but it hardly stings," he admitted candidly.

  
"But the skin's turning pink-- doesn't that mean I'm hitting hard?" I asked innocently.

  
"It means you're hitting hard enough to cause the skin to redden but not hard enough to make me really feel it."

  
I looked down at his ass hopelessly, then at my hands. I spread my fingers wondering what I was doing wrong. Skinner sensed my problem.

  
"Fox, it maybe the way you're holding your hand. Don't spank me with your fingers, spank me with you hold hand," he instructs.

  
I opened the fingers of my right hand and smacked it hard on his right cheek. I heard him grunt, so I knew he really felt it that time.

  
"That's better, much better," he said, putting his head back down.

  
"Good-- and thanks for the tip," I said, then began to spank his right buttock as hard as I could with an open palm. I noticed right away the skin was deepening in color. Now it was turning a nice shade of red instead of pink.

  
I stayed on the one spot for a while then moved to the other cheek. I do the same on this side until the spot is reddened. I didn't hear him but I felt him beneath me breathing hard. Now I'm determined to get him to at least grunt his discomfort, if not cry out in pain.

  
I worked on the sit-spot of both cheeks until my hand begins to hurt. I had no idea the spanker's hand could hurt this much. I shook the pain out of my hand and crawled off Skinner's back to leave the room for a moment to get my next implement.

  
When I return, I see he hasn't moved an inch on the bed. I moved closer to the bed. Although his ass was quite red, it was gonna' take a lot more to make him really feel it enough to cry out. I'm determined to get a sound out of him if it's the last thing I do. I hide the instrument behind my back.

  
"Get up," I commanded.

  
Walter raised himself off the bed and stood facing me. I looked at him for a while, studying him, trying to intimidate him. I didn't even get his eyes to tear.

  
"I know you barely felt that spanking, but I intend to continue until you do feel it, is that clear?" I asked, surprised at the authoritative tone in my voice. I was finally really getting into this and the power was intoxicating.

  
"Yes, it's clear," he answered, his eyes straight ahead.

  
"Good. Now get over by the wall and lean on your hands with your legs spread and your ass out."

  
I watched as he obeyed. His strong, muscular body and firm, red ass on display for me to punish at my will.... My cock twitched inside my sweats.

  
_Down boy.... You have a job to do here. There'll be plenty of time for pleasuring that body later. I wonder how Walter does it...._

  
I walked over to stand next to him. I took the instrument from behind my back. I held up the thick extension cord I got from the hallway closet. I wrapped it around my hand, holding onto the plugs. I gave a few practice swings, hearing the sound of it cutting through the air. I raised the cord high and brought it down hard on the naked ass before me. Walter takes in a sharp breath. Good, I thought to myself-- this is promising. The cord left a nasty welt where it fell across both butt cheeks. I raised the cord again, bringing it down on his butt. Again a hiss and a slight butt clench--oh yeah, he's feelin' this....

  
"Walter, are you feeling this now?" I asked, knowing the answer.

  
He turned his head to look at me. "Yes, I do. What the hell are you using on me?" he asked, trying to see it.

  
I held it up. "Just an old extension cord I found in the closet," I said, turning him back to the wall. "Let's continue-- shall we?"

  
I whipped the cord on his ass again and again. His butt cheeks began to clench and unclench after every slash. Numerous welts were forming across both cheeks on top of the already reddened flesh from the hand spanking. I know this would have probably had me-- or anybody else-- in tears begging for it to stop, but this wasn't anybody I was dealing with. This was a well-trained hard-ass, ex-Marine, a man who was used to enduring a lot of physical and mental anguish. It would take a lot to break him. _No, I don't want to break Walter_. I just didn't want this to be a waste of time for either of us. I wanted him to really feel this whipping and know I was capable of punishing him the way he needed to be punished.

  
I moved back to stand directly behind him and began to swing the cord in a crisscrossing manner, whipping his ass with a back and forth motion. I got into a nice rhythm and began to see Walter writhing against the wall. His fists were clenched, as well as his ass. He was pressing his forehead against the wall and groaning in a low throaty tone.

  
I stopped for a moment then began again, concentrating on the already sore sit-spot and the backs of his thighs. As I whip those areas, Walter's knees buckle a little and he begins to groans louder, but still doesn't cry out. I'm beginning to wonder if I even want him to any more. I know what I'm doing to him is something I could never take. More to the point: I can't take doing this to him for much longer. I wonder how much of it is stubbornness and how much is toughness. I noticed his body beginning to tremble. I stopped.

  
"Walter, why are you fighting this? I know you're really feeling this-- why don't you cry out? Why are you holding it in?" I asked, trying to plead with him to let go.

  
"Is that what you want, for me to cry out?" he asked, breathing hard.

  
"Walter, I want you to do what you feel. I want you to be honest with me and yourself about this moment, this situation. You say you want me to be honest with you, yet you aren't honest with yourself or me. If this is hurting you the way I think it should be, be honest and let yourself feel it," I said, beginning to whip him again, covering the area from waist to knees. After some more grunts and groans, I finally heard sobbing. Soft at first, then it became louder.

Then I hear something I thought I would never hear....

  
"Fox, please stop this...no more! Please!"

  
Walter was begging me to stop. _Begging...._

  
I was about to stop right then and there, but I didn't-- I couldn't. I knew he needed me to continue just a little while longer. I had finally gotten through--now wasn't the time to stop...

  
"Walter, you can take it-- and you will," I said as I continued to rain lashes on his tortured flesh. I gave him a few more well-placed lashes then stopped, throwing the cord down. I quickly moved next to him, careful not to touch the battered skin. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, putting my head on his arm. I discovered tears were streaming down my cheeks.

  
"Walter, I'm so sorry. I know I went too far. I'm so sorry," I sobbed onto his upper arm. Walter turned his head. We looked into each other's red-rimmed eyes. As I gazed into them, I didn't see the anger I thought would have been there. I see forgiveness-- and something else I couldn't readily identify.

  
"Fox," he said, finally finding his voice, "you have nothing to be sorry about. You did what you were supposed to do-- and very well, I might add. I'm proud of you for not giving up," he said, dropping his hands from the wall and leaning a shoulder against it.

  
"But Walter, I really hurt you," I said, very concerned.

  
"You didn't hurt me any more than I've hurt you during one of our sessions. I'm going to be fine," he reassured me.

  
I helped him lie down on the bed again-- face down, of course. I got the ointment. I leaned down and placed a kiss on each buttock then gently rubbed the ointment on the abused flesh. As I had done earlier, he moaned into his arms as the ointment worked its magic. I spread it over every inch of hot red flesh from hips to knees and everywhere in between. He continued to moan and sigh.

  
"Done. Is it feeling better?" I asked, putting the cap back on the bottle.

  
"Yes, very much. It's a damn good thing I picked that up," he mumbled in his arms.

  
"I think it's the best purchase you've ever made," I agreed, sitting beside him on the bed. I began to massage his scalp and the back of his neck, moving to knead the stiff muscles of his back and shoulders.

  
"Mmmmm...feels good," he groaned.

  
I bent down and placed a soft kiss on his neck and trailed it along his shoulder. I paused to whisper in his ear.

  
"I want to make you feel good now. No more pain." I continued the kisses, going back to suck on a sensitive ear lobe, evoking a loud moan. "Like that, huh?"

  
"Yeaaaaaah," he rumbled.

  
"There's more where that came from. How long is it going to take for your ass to recover enough for us to have a little fun?" I asked, licking the top of his head.

  
Walter leaned up on his elbows, turning his head and took my mouth with his. We kissed passionately then he broke away.

  
"Give me a few minutes and I'll be right with ya'," he said breathlessly as he took my mouth again. This time when we break, I get up from the bed, picking up the extension cord and the ointment.

  
I watched him raising himself to get up. "You need any help?" I asked, rushing to his side. He shoos me away. "Okay, a few minutes. You want me to come back here or wait for you downstairs?" I asked, walking toward the door.

  
"Here would be fine," he said, managing to get off the bed backwards.

  
"Okay," I said as I watch him hobble into the bathroom. I leave quickly before I start blubbering again.

  
I went to the hall closet and threw the extension cord inside then put the ointment in the medicine cabinet. After that, I went to the living room to call Scully.

  
"Scully."

  
"Hey, Scully. It's me."

  
"Mulder! Are you all right? I was worried sick!"

  
I snickered. "I'm fine, Scully. You were right-- everything worked out."

  
"So you and Skinner are okay now?"

  
"Yeah, we're more than okay."

  
"Did he...you know?"

  
Another snicker. "Yes, he did...you know," I said, flushing.

  
A moment of silence. "Oh...are you okay, Mulder?"

  
"Yes, Scully. I said I was fine. Don't worry. Look-- I gotta' go. I just wanted to check in with ya' so you'd know I was still alive."

  
"Thanks, Mulder. I appreciate it. And I'm really glad to hear you guys are okay again."

  
"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow at the airport."

  
"Right, and don't be late!"

  
"Scully, have I ever been late to catch a plane?"

  
"No, but how many times have you had to catch one the morning after a night of making up?"

  
"Scully!" I exclaimed in a shocked tone.

  
"Just make sure you get your butt there on time!"

  
"Yes, Sir," I said glibly, hanging up the phone.

  
I made my way back upstairs and into the bedroom to find Walter standing naked at the window. He looked back at me.

  
"I thought you’d changed your mind."

  
"No, of course not," I said, walking into his arms. "I called Scully."

  
Walter pulled back. "You didn't tell her what happened, did you?!" he asked, alarmed.

  
I pulled him back to me. "Calm down, Walter. All I told her was I got what was coming to me," I said, kissing along his neck.

  
"You told Scully I punished you?" he asked, closing his eyes.

  
"Yeah, I didn't have a choice. When I went over to her apartment, she did that investigator thing on me. I was powerless," I said, moving my hands over his head and shoulders. He leaned in to kiss me deeply.

  
"What did she say?" Walter asked, momentarily coming up for air.

  
"She's cool with it as long as I am," I said, taking his mouth again. Breaking the kiss, I looked into his eyes. "Walter, are we okay now?"

  
Walter grasped the sides of my face and gave me a mind-blowing kiss. "Does that answer your question?"

  
I licked my lips and nodded, not trusting my voice at that moment.

  
"Good. Now-- I think one of us is wearing entirely too many clothes," he said, stepping away from me. "Get 'em off."

  
I oblige by slowly removing my shirt and giving him a striptease. He accompanied me by singing the striptease song. When I turned to stick my butt out, sliding my sweats down over my still sore butt, I exaggerate the pain that I feel. I hissed and said "oww" loudly.

  
Walter watched me, amused.

  
"Aw, Baby's butt's still sore?" he asked, imitating a baby's voice.

  
"Mm-hmm," I uttered, complete with pout.

  
"Come let daddy kiss it," he said, extending his arms.

  
I shuffled toward him with my sweats around my ankles and turned my ass to him. He quickly knelt down and grabbed my hips. He began to lick and kiss my still warm buns. His tongue gave me a long continuous lick from the curve under my butt cheeks to the tops of my hip. Since he intended to do this to every inch of my ass, something suddenly occurs to me....

  
"Walter-- the ointment-- you're licking it off!"

  
"Yeah...so? I can put on some more," he said, going back to licking me.

  
"That's not what I mean. Is it supposed to be ingested?" I asked, concerned.

  
He paused for a moment. "Fox, I tell you what. If I begin to turn green from it, you can induce vomiting," he said, continuing.

  
"Walter, I'm serious! This stuff could be poisonous if ingested. I don't think you should be licking it off me like this," I said, pulling away from him.

  
Walter gently sat back on his haunches and gave me a look of frustration. "Okay, Fox, this was your idea anyway. What do you think we should do?

  
I stepped out of my sweats, kicking them to the side. Now I'm as naked as he is. I put my hands on my hips and began to pace. "I don't know, there must be something that two guys who've just had their asses whipped could do," I said, raking my hand through my hair.

  
"We could.... kiss?" Walter offered.

  
"Yeah, but is that all? I know us. Kissing always leads to other things," I said, still pacing.

  
"What about nipples? We both have sensitive nipples."

  
"Yeah, Walter, but are we just going to play with each other's nipples? I don't think I'm going to orgasm just from you tweaking my nipples."

  
"You got a point there," Walter agreed. " Hey, what about sucking each other?” he suggested with renewed eagerness.

  
After thinking about it, I added: "Okay, then we could fuck-- if we're really careful."

  
"Oh really? Fox, have you seen the state my ass is in? Not to mention yours..."

  
"No, but I think mine might be in Kentucky," I said, grinning.

  
Walter winced. "Keep that up and your butt may be looking to get reheated."

  
"Okay, okay-- but maybe we could do it. We can at least give it a try. How 'bout it?" I asked with bright, enthused eyes.

  
Walter's eyes narrowed as he looked at me. "Just what do you have in mind?"

  
I moved to stand directly in front of him, fisting my cock. "Well, first why don't we suck each other like you suggested. You go first," I said as I tap my cock on his mouth.

  
Walter knelt up, taking hold of my cock at the base. He began to lick and suck the head. I watch as it disappears inside his mouth. Finally, his mouth devours half of my cock while his hand grasps my heavy sacs, rolling and squeezing them.  
I throw my head back, groaning. It feels so fuckin' good. He let go of my cock and balls and placed both hands on my waist. His mouth then takes me in deep. I let out a throaty groan, shutting my eyes tight. My hips began to thrust slowly in and out of the hot orifice. I lifted my hands and began to move it over his naked scalp. I can feel my climax building.

  
"Walter," I gasped, biting on my lower lip, "ya' gotta' stop. I don't want to cum like this. I wanna' be in your hot ass."

  
Walter's lips withdrew from my cock. He sat back, letting go of my waist. He wiped a hand across his mouth. "Oh you do, do you?" he said, leering up at me.

  
"Yeah. Get yourself on the bed," I commanded, stroking my stiff cock.

  
Walter laid down on the bed, pushing a pillow under his hips. He propped himself up on one elbow to look at me. "Fox, I'm still pretty tender so go easy-- okay?"

  
I knelt between his spread legs and placed a gentle kiss on each tortured buttock.

"Baby, you know I will," I said, reaching for the lube from the night table. I put some on a finger and slid it into the tight opening. Walter moaned deeply. After a few thrusts, I add another, working it deep inside. Then I positioned myself at his entrance, pushing the head past the ring of muscle. I leaned down, putting my hands on either side of his body. With a slight thrust of my hips, I pushed myself all the way in, making sure I didn't make contact with his battered butt.

  
There will be no slamming tonight. I held myself inside him for a while. I slid out to the head then back in, moving slow and easy. Walter was moaning low within his folded arms. I picked up the pace ever so slightly, still making no contact with his ass. I got a nice, slow rhythm going. Suddenly, Walter lifted his ass pushing back on my cock. This caused me to collide into his ass.

  
"Walter, take it easy-- you're making me bump your ass."

  
"I don't fuckin' care! You have got to go harder-- fuck me harder!" he roared.

  
"You sure? I thought you said your ass was still too tender," I said, stopping the thrusting.

  
"I don't care! Just go faster!" he groaned, still pushing his ass back on my cock.

  
"Okay, here I go," I said, moving my hips faster, now slamming against his red, hot ass.

  
"Ahhh, yeah, faster, harder!" Walter commanded.

  
_And I thought there wouldn't be any slamming tonight..._

  
I stopped for a moment, letting my cock slide out then I plunged it back in. Walter cried out, lifting his head. I got a good rhythm going again and felt myself getting close. I thrust hard and deep a few more times and exploded inside my lover's ass. I screamed my release.

  
My arms gave out and I collapsed on top of him, spent, with my cock still embedded in him. When I finally come back to reality again, I leaned up and fell on the bed next to him. After a few minutes, I propped my head on my hand, caressing his back with the other.

  
I watched as he breathed hard, but doesn't move.

  
"You okay?" I asked, watching him, a little concerned.

  
He turned his head to the side, glancing up at me. "Yeah, I'm fine, but I don't think the sheets are"

  
"What? You came?"

  
"Oh yeah, big time."

  
"Really? You were so quiet. Let me see."

  
"What do you mean 'let you see'?"

  
"Just turn over, Walter. Come on. And I don't want to hear about your ass still being tender," I said as I shove him.

  
Reluctantly, Walter rolled over onto his back, hissing a little. "Ya' happy? Now my back is lying in my own semen," he said, laying his hands on his cum-smeared belly.

  
"You're just a big ol' mess, aren't ya'?" I commented, looking at his spent slimy cock. I sat up and leaned over to lick him clean, then took his limp cock into my mouth.

  
"Jesus, Fox, you're killing me," he said, caressing my hair.

  
"I want you to fuck me. I gotta' get ya' hard again," I said, taking his cock deep into my throat.

  
"You are going to kill me. I just came not fifteen minutes ago," he said breathlessly.

  
I continued to work my mouth on him. I grasped it and I started to pump fast and furious. Walter's cock began to get firm again. I continued pumping him and he started to buck his hips towards my hand.

  
Once I think he's hard enough, I straddled his hips not letting go of his cock. I squat over his cock, then guide the head into my ass. I don't lube myself-- the cum on his cock was enough. I squat lower, sliding down on his penis. Once in, I leaned forward, placing my hands on the bed for support. Then I began to move my butt up and down on the hard shaft. Walter lifted his hips off the bed in time with my downward thrusts. Our balls slapped together, causing additional incredible sensations. Walter began to groan loudly and his body tensed.

  
"Fox, oh God! I'm gonna' cum again... fuck!" Walter yelled, holding onto my hips, moving me quicker on his cock.

  
My orgasm is at its peak as I feel Walter's hot semen fill my ass. Finally mine threatens to explode, rushing through me, momentarily stopping my breathing and probably my heart.

  
"Ahhhhh, Walter, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" I screamed, cumming all over everything in the nearby vicinity.

Once the spasms ended, I rose up and let his cock slide out of me. I turned around to lie on my lover's heaving chest. We both laid there, spent and exhausted, feeling each other's breathing and pounding heartbeats.

Walter managed to raise his arms and wrap them around me.  
We slept. I don't know for how long. I awoke, drooling on Walter's chest. I lifted my head to see he was still asleep. I gently slid out of his arms and climbed out of the bed. The smell of sex is still potent in the air. Dried semen is all over my body. As I approached the door of the bathroom, I heard a groan from the bed. I looked back to see my lover leaning up, looking at me.

  
"I gotta' pee," I said, scratching my balls.

  
"I think you gotta' do more than pee. How 'bout a quick shower-- then back to bed?" he asked, getting up.

  
"Yeah, I think we can both really use one. Are you going to join me?"

  
"What do you think, Einstein? You get started and I'll be right there. I want to change these sheets," he said, pulling them off the mattress.

  
"Great," I said, going inside. After I let out about a quart of urine, I turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature of the water, and stepped inside. I grabbed the soap and began to lather myself. After a few minutes, I heard the bathroom door open and the sound of pee pouring into the toilet. Then, the shower door slid open.

  
Walter is standing there. I move aside to let him step in. After he does, he closes the door and I hand him the soap. We wash one another, taking turns getting under the spray to rinse off. We just want to get clean this time so there was no messing around, at least not much. We do kiss and fondle each other a little, but not to orgasm.

  
We got out the shower and toweled each other off then padded out the bathroom holding one another around the shoulders. When we reached the bed, Walter grabbed my head and gave me a bruising kiss, then slapped me on the ass.

  
"Ow, Walter, I'm still tender back there, too, ya' know!" I pouted, rubbing my butt.

  
"Aw, I'm so sorry, Babe-- I forgot," he said, putting his hand over mine to help me rub out the sting. "Come on, let's get some sleep. We've both had a long, hard, painful day and you have a plane to catch in the morning," he said, climbing into bed and curling up on his side.

  
"Yeah, I wanted to thank you for okaying that 302. I know the case sounds really weird but I think there could be something to it," I said, lying on my stomach beside Walter.

  
"Fox, all of your cases sound weird. Just try to get to the bottom of it-- and get your bottom back here." He gripped me around the shoulders, holding me close. We both had no intention of sleeping on our backs tonight.

  
"I'll do my best," I assured, hugging the pillow with a content smile on my face.

  
Walter let out a contented sigh of his own and we both drifted into a well deserved sleep.  
     

End 0f Chapter Three


	4. Cleaning House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone has been doing a little house cleaning while his lover was away.

SKINNER/MULDER RESIDENCE

  
I was almost late catching the plane. I overslept. Walter left me in bed while he went downstairs to prepare breakfast. While in the kitchen, he thought I was out of bed, had taken my shower and was getting dressed. When he returned to the bedroom to see why I hadn't come down, he saw I was still in bed sound asleep. I awoke to his loud bark, looked at the clock then bolted from the bed and into the bathroom. All the while screaming it was all his fault for making me so tired the night before. I dreaded having to deal with Scully’s smugness about being right when she said make-up sex would cause me to over sleep and be late for the flight...

  
Needless to say, I didn't have time to eat anything. Walter fixed me a behind-the-wheel breakfast of eggs and sausage jammed between two pieces of toast. I managed to down a cup of coffee and make my way out the door but not before Walter was able to give me a good-bye kiss that made my knees weak. He slipped his hand under my suit jacket and gently caressed my ass, then whispered in my ear 'hurry back'. I forced myself away from him then rushed out the door.

  
Remarkably, I made it to the airport in time. In time for me, that is. For Scully-- now that was another story. You know how they tell you to be there at least 2 hours before take-off? Well, Scully always likes to be there 3 hours before take-off. I arrived about 45 minutes before take-off. I made my way to the gate, immediately spotting a small red-headed woman pacing back and forth in the waiting area. She was the only one there, which I'm sure made her feel even better....

  
When I came into view, she stood with her hands on her hips and a really pissed off look on her face. I barely acknowledged her and walked right to the ticket taker, handing her my ticket. Scully was right behind me and I made sure I stayed in front of her as we walked into the plane. Once we found our seats, I turned to see her glaring at me.

  
"What?" I said, glancing sideways.

  
"What do you mean 'what', Mulder? Where the hell were you?" she asked, perturbed.

  
"I was running late, that's all," I said, keeping my face to the window.

  
"Running late."

  
"Yeah, I... overslept."

  
"You overslept," she repeated, with a snicker.

  
I turned to face her. "Is there something funny?" I asked indignantly.

  
"No, there's nothing funny," she answered, trying to hide a grin with the back of her hand.

  
"I know why you're giggling. You think it's because of...you know...what you said yesterday," I said, blushing.

  
"I'm right. Aren't I?" she asked, her eyes filled with amusement.

  
I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction. "No, you're not right...well not exactly." I could never outright lie to Scully. "I was really tired from all that spring cleaning Walter forced me to do," I said, giving her my most sincere expression.

  
"Okay, Mulder. I believe you. Really—I do. The spring cleaning made you so tired you overslept," she concluded, looking smug. I gave her an annoyed expression and left it at that. I know she's right and she knows she's right-- not another word was said.

As the plane reached its highest altitude, I relaxed. I was beginning to believe there would be no further discussion about last night. Suddenly I begin to squirm in my seat. It seemed my previously disciplined butt decided to take this time to begin to irritate me. I tried to keep still so Scully wouldn't notice but it was useless. The worst thing was she was trying to ignore me. Every once in a while, I would shoot a look in her direction and she would pretend to read her magazine. When she didn't think I was looking, she'd glance at me. I knew she knew what had happened and I hated it. I hated the fact she knew about it. I kind of wanted her to know, but now that she did, it was killing me. It's so embarrassing...

  
As if she read my mind, I felt her hand rest on my knee, patting it. I stopped fidgeting long enough to look at the hand, then at her.

  
"Mulder, are you all right?” she asked, with genuine concern in her eyes.

  
As usual, her eyes comfort me. Just the expression on her face tells me it's all right. There was no sign of amusement. She really was concerned. Where most people would find my predicament amusing, Scully didn't. I should have known. She's always there for me.

  
"I'm okay, Scully," I said, smiling at her.

  
"Good-- but in case you're not, just let me know and I'll ask the flight attendant for an extra pillow," she said with a hint of amusement filling her bright blue eyes.

I'm not sure if I could have kept a straight face for this long either if she was the one with the sore butt...

  
"No, that won't be necessary," I said, feigning upset as I abruptly turn toward the window, pouting. Suddenly I felt her squeeze my arm. I looked back at her and saw she didn't mean to find my situation amusing. I gave her a wink then turned back to the window and stared out at the clouds. I sighed to myself, feeling more secure about her knowing.

 

BUTTFUCK, USA

  
Finally, we’d reached our destination. We might as well have gotten right back on the plane-- it seemed there wasn't a case after all. The case was so weird it wasn't true. When I told Scully and Walter about this man who claimed he’d picked up an alien communication on his homebuilt CB, they both gave me this look. They also knew there was nothing they could say to dissuade me—the case had ‘Fox-Mulder-investigates’ written all over it. So Walter okayed the 302 and here we are, somewhere in Buttfuck USA, listening to an old CB...

  
Once the guy could get the thing running, he excitedly told us to listen to the alien language. Turns out it wasn't alien at all-- at least not alien from outer space. It was alien-- as in from another country. Both Scully and I immediately recognized the language was something Asiatic, probably Chinese. We begin to burst the guy's bubble and tell him it was, in fact, Chinese-- from China, right here on the planet Earth. It wasn’t too hard to believe he had never heard the Chinese language spoken. After all, this was Buttfuck USA: the guy didn't even own a TV and said he never went to the movies. After he apologized a few thousand times for making us come out for nothing, we bade him a fond adieu and went back to the Inn where we were staying.

On the way, Scully never said 'I told you so'. She never does, bless her heart. That's why I love her. We were only there for a few hours. We both decided to spend the night and get the first flight out in the morning. It was a charming little town. The Inn was clean and quite nice. Scully and I both figured we needed a respite, if only for a few hours. I decided not to call Walter until the morning to tell him when we were coming back.

  
I made the reservations for our flight then we went to the town's only restaurant. The food was good. Everything was homemade-- right down to the iced tea. The waitress said it was sun brewed. I told Scully hers still tasted better and she gave me one of her rare blushing smiles. It warmed my heart to see it. She doesn't do it enough...

  
I think it was a good idea to stay in town tonight. We both needed to get away from things for a while, although I did miss Walter. I didn't let Scully in on the way I felt, but I wanted to call him. I knew if I did, we would have been on the plane that night on our way back home.

  
After our meal, we went back to our individual rooms. I turned on the TV and was lucky enough to find one of my favorite movies, "The Day The Earth Stood Still" - the original - not that Keanu Reeves imposter. During every commercial, I would look at the phone, wanting to call Walter. After one more commercial, I gave in and did it. He was happy to hear from me. I told him the case turned out to be a waste of time and we would be home sometime tomorrow. Then the weirdest thing happened. There was complete silence on his end.

  
"Walter? Are you still there? Hello?"

  
"Yeah, I'm here Fox," he answered, sounding somewhat disappointed.

  
"What's the matter? You don't want me to come home?"

  
"Of course I want you to come home, it's just..."

  
"It's just --what?" I asked, now very concerned.

  
"I thought it would take you longer, that's all."

  
"Well, it hasn't. We'll be home tomorrow-- if that's all right with you," I said hesitantly with a bit of sarcasm.

  
"Fox, of course it's all right," he said, trying to change his tone. "I miss you."

  
"Yeah, I miss you, too. So-- I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

  
"Right. Have a good trip."

  
"Thanks. Good night."

  
"Night, babe."

  
I hung up the phone in a daze. What the hell was that? I leave, he tells me to hurry up and bring my butt back to him-- and now he's acting like he doesn't want me to come back...

  
Needless to say, the call disturbed me. I can't concentrate on the movie anymore and I can't sleep, so I decided to go for a run. It will clear my head and hopefully make me tired enough to sleep. I figured I didn't have to tell Scully since I didn't plan to be out long. Just a half hour to 45 minutes should be enough. I changed into some sweats and running shoes then headed out into the unfamiliar night. The air was crisp and clean, perfect for a nights run. I stuck to the road so it would be easier to find my way back.

  
I had been running for about 15 minutes when I spotted a car in the middle of the road. I stopped running and approached it cautiously. I didn't have my gun, but I did have a small flashlight. As I got near the car, I turned the flashlight to the window. Someone's inside... It's a man.... I tapped on the window and called out to him.

  
"Sir, sir? Are you all right, sir?"

  
The man stirred and as he opened his eyes, a terrified look came over his face and he began to scream. I tried to comfort him and tell him I wasn't there to harm him. I wanted to help him. After a while, he calmed down and stared at me through the window.

  
"Sir, can you roll down the window so I can talk to you? Roll the window down," I said, motioning for him to lower the window. Finally he does and I introduce myself.

  
"My name is Fox Mulder. I work for the FBI. Can you tell me what happened to you?"

  
The man paused a moment, then began to tell me.

  
"I was on the road, when suddenly the car just stopped. While I was fussin' with the ignition, the car started shaking. A blinding bright light flashed over me and there was a horrible noise. I couldn't see a thing. Before I knew it, it was gone," he said.

  
My heart started to beat faster as I listened to his story. I had read and heard about this so many times before.

  
"Sir, was there anything else?" I asked anxiously.

  
The man thought for a moment. "No, I don't think so," he said, shaking his head.

  
"What about missing time? Did you miss time at all?" The guy looks at me like I was speaking another language.

  
"Sir, let me see your watch." He held up his watch and I put mine next to it. The times were exactly the same. No missing time, but there were still those other things to consider. This could be a UFO sighting, I thought.

"Sir, I know this may sound crazy, but I think you may have just encountered a UFO."

  
The guy’s eyes widened. "You think it was a real UFO?" he asked, amazed.

  
"It could have been. I'd like to do some investigating to find out. Can I count on your cooperation?"

  
"Yeah, sure," the man said, still dazed.

  
"Good." I leaned into the car and turned the ignition key. The car started up, to the amazement of its driver.

  
"How'd you know it would start up again?"

  
"I've come across a lot of cases like this. The car always seems to start up again after the sighting. I think we need to notify the Sheriff. If you think you're fit to drive, can you take me there?" I asked.

  
"Yeah, sure," he said, opening the passenger side for me to get in.

  
As we're driving to the Sheriff's office, I asked the man his name. His name was Donald Wilson. He didn't live in town-- he was there visiting a friend whom he had visited often. He was on his way back to his home when this happened.  
We pulled up to the Sheriff's office, which appeared to be closed. Mr. Wilson didn't seem too surprised the office might be closed at that time of night. I couldn't believe it was closed-- what if something happened during the night, I asked him. He told me that was highly unlikely and if there was an extreme emergency, everyone had the Sheriff's and the Deputy's home phone numbers. Oh yeah, I thought to myself, I forgot we were in Buttfuck....

  
He asked if I thought he should call the Sheriff at home. I said no, it would be better to call him first thing in the morning. There wasn't anything we could see at night anyway. I told him we would go to the office then and he could make a formal statement.

Mr. Wilson drove me back to the Inn. Before getting out of the car, I told him I would meet him at the Sheriff's office tomorrow. He said he would drive back to his friend's house and stay the night. Before going to my room, I knocked on Scully’s door. She needed to be informed of our slight change of plans. After a few seconds, I saw her looking through the peephole.

  
"Scully, it's me," I announced. She opened the door. From her appearance, it seemed she had already gone to bed.

  
"Mulder, what's going on?" she asked, running her hand through her sleep-tousled hair.

  
"Scully, I'm sorry-- did I wake you?"

  
"It's okay, but what are you doing in your running clothes?" she asked, looking me up and down.

  
"I went for a run. Can I come in and explain?"

  
"Yeah, come in," she said, opening the door wider. She stepped aside so I could come in.

  
I walked in and immediately began telling her the story. When I was done, I saw she had this strange look on her face. "So do you see why we won't be making our flight in the morning?"

  
After a moment of staring off in the distance, she looked at me. "Mulder, let me get this straight: You go out jogging and see a car in the road with an unconscious man inside. When he comes to, he tells you his car died and started to shake. Then a bright light appears in the sky."

  
"Yeah, that's right," I said enthusiastically.

  
"You establish there was no missing time then the car starts up again."

  
"Yep, that's right."

  
"And you think he had a UFO sighting."

  
"Yeah, it's all textbook-- except for the no-missing-time part. All the cases I've read had all the other elements."

  
I watched as Scully got up and paced around the room. She came back to stand near me. "Mulder, did you test this guy for alcohol or drugs?"

  
"No, not yet, but I didn't smell alcohol on his breath and he didn't appear to be high."

  
"You just believed everything he said without checking on anything?"

  
"Well...yeah, I didn't have a reason to think he was lying to me and there wasn't anything I could do tonight. It was too dark out there. I told him we would contact the Sheriff in the morning, then I would check out his story."

  
Scully sighed loudly. "So this means we're not going home tomorrow?"

  
"No. I think we should stay a few more days to check this out. It might be nothing, but I want to find out."

  
Scully wearily sat herself on the bed. "Will you call Skinner tonight or in the morning to tell him we won't be coming home tomorrow?"

  
I walked over to the door. "I'll tell him in the morning." Then I mumbled, "He'll be happy to hear that."

  
"What did you say Mulder?"

  
"Nothing... I'll see you in the morning," I said, going out the door and back to my room. I took off my clothes and hopped into the shower. I threw on a pair of clean boxers then got in bed. I stared at the ceiling for hours before I was finally able to fall asleep, but it wasn't a sound sleep.

  
I dreamed... No-- let me rephrase that-- I had a nightmare: When I got back home, Walter was gone. No note, nothing. All of his stuff was gone, too, everything that would remind me of him. He was removed from all the pictures we took together. He had simply vanished, gone from the face of the earth never to be heard from again. I awoke from the nightmare in a cold sweat, feeling desperately and utterly alone.

 

MULDER'S ROOM AT THE INN

I was buttoning my shirt when I heard a knock at the door. Knowing it must be Scully, I yelled the door was open. I looked back as she entered, carrying a plastic shopping bag. She walked over to the table and placed the bag and its contents on it, then stood watching me. I fumbled nervously with my tie. Scully walked over to me and reached up to grab it.

  
"Here, let me do that," she said, tying my tie expertly. "I used to tie my brother's ties while standing on a chair. I don't know why he could never get the hang of it.... There. All done," she said, releasing the tie and giving my chest a quick pat.  
I leaned up and turned away from her. "Thanks," I said. I can sense her watching me as I sat on the bed putting on my shoes. She came and stood close to me.

  
"Mulder, I called this morning to cancel our flight. Did you call Skinner?"

  
"No...no, not yet, but it doesn't matter anyway," I said, not looking at her.

  
She sat down on the bed next to me. "Mulder what do you mean by that? What's happened?"

  
"It's no big deal. I don't want to get into it right now," I said, getting up from the bed.

  
"Mulder, what's happened between you and Skinner? Did you have another fight before you left?” she asked, getting up to walk behind me.

  
"Scully...no, we didn't. Everything seemed fine when I left. I don't understand it. I called him late last night."

  
Scully raised one eyebrow. "Oh, you did? What happened?"

  
"Nothing," I said, raking my hands through my hair. "He seemed very happy to hear from me, but when I mentioned that we would be coming home the next day..."

  
"What?" Scully asked, putting her hand on my arm.

  
"I don't know--he sounded funny, like he was disappointed or something." I turned away from her so she wouldn't see my face.

  
"Mulder, I really don't think Skinner was disappointed to learn that you were coming home. I'm sure he misses you and wants you home," she said, rubbing my arm comfortingly.

  
I didn't want any comforting at the moment, so I moved away from her. "Yeah. He said he missed me, so why did he sound like that?" I asked, knowing there was a whine in my voice.

  
"Maybe you thought he sounded disappointed. Maybe he was just tired. You said it was late when you called him last night," she said gently.

  
I let her hand gently squeeze mine as I looked into her eyes for an answer. I knew she could see the unshed tears in mine, but I didn't care. I needed to be reassured everything was all right.

  
"Yeah, maybe you're right. Maybe I heard the tiredness in his voice," I said, giving her a small smile. She reached up to touch my face.

  
"I know I'm right. Give him a call and tell him we'll be here a few more days. If you don't call, he's going to be sick with worry," she said, moving over to the table.

  
"Yeah, it's only fair that I tell him of our change of plans." I got my cell phone and punched in my home number.

  
"Do you want me to go back to my room until you're done?"

  
"No, I won't be long." I listened as the phone rang three times, then the machine picked up.

  
:::::::::::Hello, you have reached the Skinner/Mulder residence. There's no one here to answer your call, so please leave a message after the beep::::::::::::::

  
:::::::::BEEEEEEEEP::::::::::::

  
"Yeah, hi, Walter---it's me...look, something has come up...another possible case. Scully and I will be here for another few days to investigate. I'll keep you posted."

I glanced over at Scully, who was taking things out of the bag pretending not to listen. Then I whispered, "Miss ya, Babe." I hung up the phone, blushing furiously.

  
I glanced at her sheepishly. "Got the machine. He's not home."

  
"Oh well, at least you told him. You can try reaching him later. Now come over and have some breakfast. I bought coffee and bagels. One with extra cream cheese, just the way you like it," she said, taking a sip of her coffee.

  
I walked over to the table, picking up my own cup. I inhaled the heavenly aroma then took a sip. "Honey, that's great coffee!" I said, holding up the cup and pointing at it.

  
Scully frowned.

  
"That's from the movie ‘Witness’-- when..."

  
"I know where it's from. Just eat your breakfast so we can check out this case of yours and go home," she said, taking a big bite of her bagel.

  
"Sure, fine, whatever," I said huffily, taking a bigger bite of mine.

  
We both look at each other with our mouths stuffed and smeared with cream cheese. We began to laugh, almost choking. I was beginning to feel a little better about my call to Walter even though I was still worried. I don't think he sounded tired at all, but I humored Scully so she'd drop it. I figured I wouldn't know if anything was wrong until I got back, so as Scully said, we'd check out the case and then go home. I was more anxious than ever to do just that.

For three days, we investigated this guy's story about what happened that night. Scully, the Sheriff, the Deputy and myself, along with Mr. Wilson, returned to the scene. We thoroughly searched the area and went door-to-door, asking if anyone had seen anything that night. Scully and I sat for hours trying to come up with scenarios for what could've happened other than it being a UFO.

  
Slowly, things were beginning to fit. The reason for Mr. Wilson's car dying then starting up again was attributed to a not-quite-dead battery. Next, the car shaking: We quickly ruled out earthquakes—this part of the world recorded hardly any seismic activity. However, the area did have a power plant that served the town and a few others nearby. Residents said they had experienced occasional tremors that felt like earthquakes. So much for the shaking...

  
Now, for the bright light and the noise: In the distance, we could see a field in the vicinity where Mr. Wilson's car stalled. We were told once a month a huge crop duster flew over the field using a powerful beam of light to track its way. After compiling all the evidence, we came to the conclusion that Mr. Wilson did not experience a UFO—just a run-in with a nighttime crop duster-- and so the case was closed.

  
I have to admit I was a little disappointed but I was happy the case had wrapped and we could go back home. I decided not to tell Walter I was coming back. I wanted to surprise him. Scully and I got the next flight out for home.

We sat in companionable silence for about 30 minutes after take-off. Scully was reading a novel and I was compiling the report we would give Walter when we got back.

  
Suddenly my mind started to wander. I kept thinking about him, about the way he sounded when we last spoke on the phone. After thinking about it a bit more, I was convinced he was not tired. He was probably still pissed at me for breaking the figurine. He had plenty of time to think about what I'd done while I was away.  
I bet he went into that den a thousand times looking at the fallen warrior and remembering everything that happened. I know after our little talk everything was supposed to be okay with us... but what if after having a few days to think about it, he realized that he...doesn't want me back... He doesn't want me to come home.... He's had it with me....

  
I began to find myself breathing hard, trying to fight back the tears my realization had wrought. I glanced sideways at Scully. She was already watching me.

  
"Mulder, what's wrong? Are you all right?" she asked.

  
I took in a few ragged breaths to try to calm myself. I turned to look at her.

"Scully, I have to find another one," I said desperately.

  
"Find another what?"

  
"Another figurine! That's the only way he'll truly forgive me. You have to help me find one!" I was looking into her eyes and grabbing her hand.

  
She put a hand on top of mine. "Mulder, I don't believe that. What made you think of this?"

  
"The call, Scully. The way he sounded. I know you think he was tired, but I don't think so. He is still really pissed at me. He's pissed about what I did."

  
Scully placed a hand on the side of my face. "Mulder, don't do this to yourself. Don't start thinking like this. Skinner loves you and he wants you to come home."

  
"Then why...?"

  
"I don't know why he sounded like that," she said, cutting me off. "There could be a lot of reasons but you won't know until you get home. Don’t make yourself a wreck making assumptions then worrying yourself sick about them."

  
She was right. I really didn't know. I was just making stuff up and that was making me sick. I had to stop. I picked up Scully's hand and gave it a kiss.

  
"You're right, Scully. I just need to wait and see... but I still think getting him another one would be a good idea. Don't you?"

  
"Yes, it's a good idea-- but do it because you want him to have it, not because you think by getting it you'll make things go back to the way they were."

  
"I know. I know things can never go back to the way they were. I just want to give him another one because I know it will make him happy."

  
"Okay then," she smiled at me. "And when you're ready, I'll help you track down another one of the little devils."

  
"Thanks, Scully. I knew I could count on you," I said, smiling back.

  
We both returned to what we were doing for the remainder of the trip. I was content with Scully's reassuring words. Maybe I was wrong about what I thought of Walter's reaction. All I could do now was wait to find out.

 

DULLES INTERNATIONAL  2:15 PM

  
It was early afternoon when I arrived back in Virginia. Scully had to leave right from the airport. She was asked to teach a forensics class at Quantico. We said our good-byes and she told me to let her know how things went with Walter. I decided to call him from the airport, so I pulled out my cell and once again punched in the number. I hoped I didn't get the machine again...

  
"Skinner."

  
"Hey you, I'm back!" I said, genuinely happy to hear his voice. I had a grin on my face from ear to ear-- one I was sure he could hear.

  
"Fox? Where are you?"

  
Oh-kay...no 'hello, I'm glad you're back. I missed you'...

  
"I'm at the airport."

  
"Here in Virginia?"

  
"Yeeeah," I answered hesitantly.

  
There was a slight pause then he spoke. "Do you need me to come pick you up?"

  
"No, that won't be necessary. I have my car."

  
"Okay then. I guess I'll see you back at the house-- in about three hours. I have a few more case files to go over before I leave." His voice was very even-toned.

  
"Cool, I'll see you then." I was about to disconnect when he added one more thing.

  
"Oh and Fox, when you get home, do not-- and I repeat, do not-- go in the den. I know I said you could go in there anytime you wished, but not this time. Just-- wait until I get home. Okay?"

  
"Um...yeah, sure," I answered suspiciously.

  
"I mean it, Fox. Can I trust you to not go in there before I come home?"

  
"I said 'yes'. Yes, you can trust me."

  
"Okay. I'll see you later."

  
I ended the call and stood for a moment trying to process what I had just heard. I suddenly felt a sense of fear or dread come over me, like something horrible was about to happen or had already happened.

  
The fear changed to panic. First-- he didn't sound happy I was home. Then-- he tells me not to go in that damned den until he gets home. What the fuck was going on? I pushed my cell phone in my pocket, grabbed my bags and made my way to my car.

  
I couldn’t shake the horrible feeling something wasn't right. Something had changed while I was away. Walter sounded different. I prayed it didn't have anything to do with our relationship or the way he felt about me.

 

SKINNER/MULDER RESIDENCE

  
I pulled up to the house and parked in the driveway. I felt a tinge of anxiety as I got out of the car and headed up the front walk. I was relieved not to find my stuff in boxes waiting for me on the front steps. I got out my keys and let myself in. After getting inside, I stood for a moment relishing the feeling of being back home. I glanced up the stairs and felt my heart skip a beat. I sighed loudly and made my way up, carrying my bags.

  
 As I got to the den, I paused at the closed door. It was as if I could sense what was behind it just by standing there. I shook off the feeling of curiosity and continued on into the bedroom. I unpacked, showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I glanced at my watch. I still had an hour and a half before Walter got back home. I decided to go downstairs and watch some TV until he arrived.

  
I padded barefoot down the hall. Again as I got to the door of the den, I couldn't just keep going. It was somehow calling to me. I stopped and actually put my ear to the door, trying to hear the secret I wasn't supposed to know about until he got home.

  
Placing my hand on the knob, I turned it to see if it would open. The lock turned. I pushed the knob, opening it slightly. Shit, it was open! I couldn't believe it. He actually didn't lock it. What was he thinking? I asked myself. Then I realized exactly what he was thinking. It was a test to see if he could trust me. He purposely left the door unlocked after telling me not to go inside to see if I would. Damn him! I stared down at my hand still holding the knob, with the door slightly open. It wasn't opened wide enough for me to peek inside and see anything. I would have to open it a lot more.

  
I stood there, my heart pounding. I could easily push the door open a little further and take a look and he would never know...but then I would know. I would know I was an untrustworthy piece of shit. I would know the man I loved more than life itself couldn't trust me. After the talk we had the night before I left about trust and honesty, how could I even contemplate doing this?

  
I pulled the door shut, releasing the knob then quickly went downstairs.  
I threw myself on the couch. I felt really proud of myself. It was so good to know Walter could actually trust me and more importantly, I could trust myself. I smiled and grabbed the remote. Switching on the TV, I began to channel-surf.  
After a few minutes, I finally settled on going back and forth between "Millionaire" and "Springer". Between the two diverse shows, I managed to not even think about the den and what I wasn't supposed to see-- besides, it was probably another one of the damn figurines anyway....

  
Suddenly, the phone rang. I let the machine get it.

  
:::::::::::This is the Skinner/Mulder residence, there's no one to answer...BEEP::::::::

  
"Fox? Are you there? Pick up."

It was Walter, interrupting the message. I got up and ran to the phone.

  
"Hey Walter, I'm here!"

  
"Good. How was your trip?"

  
"It was fine."

  
"How long have you been home?"

  
"About an hour."

  
There was a pause.

  
"No, I didn't go into the den," I said, knowing what he was thinking.

  
"I didn't ask you that," he said indignantly.

  
"I know, but you were thinking it."

  
"You think you know me so well don't you?" he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

  
"Yeah, I do."

  
"Well, we'll just see about that. I'm leaving now. I should be home in about 45 minutes if I don't hit any traffic. I can't wait-- I missed you somethin' awful, Babe."

  
My heart skipped a beat. He said he missed me again and this time he sounded like he really meant it. I was so wrong....

  
"I really missed you too, Walter. Hurry up and come home, 'kay?"

  
"You know it," he said then was gone.

  
For the first time since I left, I could feel a connection between us, a connection I thought had been severed with all that had happened. I was relieved to find out I was wrong. I was still loved and wanted.

  
Suddenly I felt hungry. I jumped up and went into the kitchen to see what I could find. First, I looked through the cabinets. There I found it: a brand new unopened box of strawberry Pop Tarts, the plain ones, not the ones with the disgusting frosting on 'em. I knew he had gotten them just for me-- because he hated them.  
I grabbed the box from the cabinet, tore open a package and popped two in the toaster. While they were toasting, I poured myself a big glass of milk. When they were done, I placed them on a plate and made my way back into the living room. I watched some more TV while I happily dunked the Pop Tart in my milk and devoured it. It brought back warm memories of when I was a kid, watching Saturday morning cartoons and eatin' Pop Tarts. Only difference now was I was an adult, watching two transsexuals going at it because one cheated on the other with a hermaphrodite....

  
As I was about to devour my second Pop Tart, I heard the front door opening. I turned to see my Walter pushing the door open and poking his head through. I jammed what was left of the tart into my mouth and downed the rest of the milk then jumped up to greet him at the door. I lunged for him, wrapping my arms around his neck, nearly knocking him back outside. He dropped his briefcase on the floor and hugged me tight.

  
"God, I'm so glad you're home!" I exclaimed, kissing the top of his hairless scalp.

  
He laughed out loud. "Christ, Fox, I missed you too-- but at least let me get inside and close the door.

  
I pulled him inside and pushed the door shut with my foot. I grabbed his head and kissed him passionately. He returned the favor and both our tongues did battle inside our mouths. Hands were everywhere. Finally we had to come up for air.

  
"You taste like strawberry jam," he said, breathless.

  
"Yeah, I know. I found the Pop Tarts you bought for me," I said, giving him another hot smooch.

  
"Oh, you did, huh?"

  
"Yeah, I did. Did you get me anything else?"

  
"Maaaay...be, but you're not going to find out until I can get into the shower. So you stay here," he said, as he gently released my arms from around his neck and sat me on the couch. "I'll call you up when I'm done."

  
"Can't I come up and take it with you?" I asked, complete with puppy eyes.

  
"Now, you know as well as I do if you did we wouldn't get to do anything else,"

Walter said, picking up his briefcase and going upstairs.

  
"Would that be such a bad thing?" I asked, pouting.

  
"No, but I thought you wanted to see what else I got you," he yelled from the top of the stairs.

  
"All right, but don't take too long," I yelled then settle back to finish watching 'Springer'.

  
After about a half hour, I heard him call me from the hallway. I shut off the TV and bounded up the stairs. I stopped short as I see him standing at the door of the den with a stern look on his face. His arms are folded across his chest, which is never a good sign. I find myself swallowing hard, as I slowly approach him.

  
"I thought you told me you didn't go in here."

  
"I didn't," I said, with wide innocent eyes.

  
"Really," he said. He turned the knob and pushed open the door. "Then why is that broken?" he asked, pointing down at the bottom of the door.

  
I leaned down and saw at the very bottom of the door was a piece of tape that was broken. Apparently, Walter had stuck tape across the bottom of the door so if it was opened, the tape would break. I didn't even notice it. I stared at it for a few seconds more, then I looked up at him.

  
He's angry.

  
I needed to try to explain to him things weren't as bad as they appeared.  
"Walter, it's not what you think, honest. Yes, I did try the door, BUT I DIDN'T GO IN! I SWEAR!" I yelled-- to make sure he heard me.

  
"First off, I am not deaf. You do not need to yell at me."

  
"Sorry," I said, hanging my head, "I just wanted you to hear me."

  
"I heard you, but there's something that I don't understand."

  
"What's that?" I asked timidly.

  
"Why did you even try the door if you had no intention of going inside?"

  
I sighed loudly. "Okay, I'm going to be completely honest with you-- I was thinking about it, but only thinking. I wasn't going to actually go in. I remembered what we said to each other the night before I left and I didn't want to do anything to mess that up."

  
"So you thought about it and decided not to because of what we said?"

  
"Yeah, that and the ‘talking to’ my butt got."

  
Walter sighed loudly this time and walked down the hall. Then he came back. "I'm glad our little talk did some good and made you change your mind about doing something dishonest, but I'm not happy about you attempting to do it."

  
I dropped my eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry. I guess curiosity got the better of me, but don't I get points for not actually doing it? I mean, I was able to stop myself this time-- doesn't that count?" I asked, almost pleading.

  
He moved closer to me and grabbed my shoulder, squeezing it. "Fox, of course that counts and you do get points..."

  
"But..."

  
"But you still attempted to do it. That's the part I don't like."

  
"You obviously knew I was going to do it since you rigged that trap for me," I said, slightly incensed.

  
"I had hoped I would be proven wrong. I wanted to know I could trust you."

  
"You can trust me, Walter. The problem is I couldn't trust myself. That's why I was so tempted to go inside when you told me not to," I hung my head and turned away, then I turned back. "So, I guess I'm still going to be punished for that, right?" I pouted.

  
"Well, it shouldn't go unpunished, but I don't think it should be a severe punishment.”

  
"Oh gee, thanks. Instead of getting 30 swats, I'll just get 20. Right?"

  
"No, not exactly, but let's not discuss that right now. I want to show you what I got you," he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket.

  
"You got me a handkerchief?" I asked innocently.

  
"No, genius. Turn around," he ordered.

  
I obeyed and found my eyes being covered. "A blindfold? What's going on, Walter? You gonna' do something kinky to me?" I grinned hopefully.

  
"Do you trust me?"

  
"Yes, of course I do," I answered as he finished the knot and grabbed my shoulders.

  
"Good. Can you see anything?"

  
"No, not a thing," I said, searching the air in front of me with tentative fingers.

  
"Okay. We're going into the den now. Just let me guide you." He put my hand on his shoulder. "Here, just walk behind me."

  
I do as he says. I heard him opening the door. I follow him inside. He lead me all the way in. I begin to think-- what could he have gotten for me? I hoped he didn't think getting another figurine would be something I would want. I want him to have another one, but I don't want this to be what he got me.

  
Finally, we stopped and he took my hand down from his shoulder. He told me not to remove the handkerchief just yet. I can hear him moving around in the room then he returns to me.

  
"Okay, now you can remove the blindfold," he said.

  
I pulled it off my head without untying it. Once my eyes adjusted, I looked straight ahead and see a large object covered with a sheet. I looked around the room. I don't see the cabinet. I not only don't see the cabinet, I don't see any of the figurines. Not one. It seems the large sheeted object is in its place.

  
"Walter, what going on here? Where is the cabinet with all your figurines?" I asked, still looking around for them.

  
"Gone," he said simply.

  
I looked at him in shock. "What do you mean, gone?"

  
"Gone. Not here. Disappeared. Took leave."

  
"But...but...they meant so much to you, how could you..."

  
Walter stood directly in front of me and held my face. "Fox, they never meant more to me than you do." I know he can still see the confusion in my eyes. "I realized they were coming between us and I didn't want that to happen. They were causing us a lot of pain, in more ways than one, not to mention the fact you thought I loved them more than you. I couldn't have that, so I got rid of them. I love you too much to let some inanimate objects destroy what we have together."

  
"But you didn't have to get rid of them to show me you loved me. I already knew that-- or at least I should have," I said, taking his hand from my face and kissing it.

  
"That's good to know, but I’ve made my decision. Besides-- there wasn't enough room in here for both of these."

  
My tear-filled eyes follow him as he moved over to the large object.

  
"Are you ready?" he asked, reaching up to pull the sheet.

  
I nodded, still feeling somewhat stunned.

  
He pulled on the sheet and slowly a big screen TV appeared before my eyes. My mouth gaped open and my eyes became wide. I had been nagging him to get one of these forever. He kept saying we didn't have the space.

  
"Ta-da!" Walter exclaimed. "So how do ya like it? It's a 65-inch screen. The guy in the store said it was the biggest they had," he said, grinning.

  
"How, how did...this much have cost a fortune," I stuttered out.

  
"Well, I managed to get quite a lot for the figurines. I even had some money left over after I bought the TV."

  
"You--- you sold them-- to buy this TV?"

  
"Yeah. Did it on Ebay. It wasn't too hard. There were a number of people bidding minutes after I put them up for auction and the highest bidder got 'em."

  
I couldn't take it anymore. I had to go and sit down. I got to the loveseat and held my head in my hands, shaking it from side to side.

  
Walter came over and sat next to me. "What's the matter? Don't you like the TV?"

  
I lifted my head and looked at him with hot tears running down my cheeks. "I can't believe you did this...you sold them-- your precious figurines-- to show me you loved me more."

  
He grabbed the back of my head and gave me a deep kiss. "They weren't precious. You are-- and don't you forget it. Now, there's more," he said, getting up and going to his desk. I watched as he took a nicely wrapped package from behind it and brought it to me.

  
I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand and looked up at him.

  
"What's this?"

  
"You won't know until you open it."

  
"This isn't even my birthday," I said as I took the package from him and tore off the wrapping. I stare in amazement at the gift in my hand. It was a _PlayStation_ video package, complete with two games. One was _Stars of the NBA_ and the other was _Champions of the Ring_.

  
"I got them with the rest of the money. I got the boxing one for me-- but you're free to play it if you want. You like?" he asked with a big grin.

  
"This is all too much. I feel like it's Christmas or something. Do you know how long I've been wanting a PlayStation and a basketball game to play on it?"

  
"Of course I do. I do live with you, you know."

  
"But why...why did you get all this for me, especially after what I've done?"

  
"Well, to be honest, I didn't get all this just for you. I got them for both of us. I told you this room now belonged to both of us and I wanted something in here we both could enjoy."

  
I got up from the loveseat and walked over to the window, keeping my back turned. "This is why you didn’t sound too happy when I told you I was coming home so soon. You were planning all of this."

  
"Yeah, you kind of took me by surprise when you said you’d be back the next day. It wasn't about not wanting you to come back-- I just didn't want you back until the room was ready. I wanted it to be perfect. I'm just glad I was able get things done as fast as I did."

  
I turned around from the window with fresh tears streaming down my face.

  
"What's the matter, Babe?" he asked, coming over and wrapping his arms me.

  
I put my head down and sobbed on his shoulder. "I just thought ...when I called you sounded so...I didn't think you wanted me back because of what I did."

  
"Shhh, Fox, it's okay. Everything is okay now. You know that wasn't true. I missed you so much, Babe," Walter said, squeezing me tight and kissing me.

  
When I was all cried out and able to pull myself together, I broke the embrace but he still kept his arm around me.

  
"You okay now?"

  
"Yeah," I said, feeling a little ashamed of myself. I wiped my face with the hem of my T-shirt then moved away and picked up the basketball game. "How about going one on one? I'll hook everything up and we can play-- unless you want to play the boxing one first. That would be fine with me. We can go a couple of rounds," I said, imitating a fighter dancing in the ring.

  
"No, we can't."

  
"Why not?"

  
"Because you're not allowed to play the game for a week."

  
"Whaaat?! What the hell are you talking about?!" I yelled.

  
"I'm talking about your punishment for attempting to come in here earlier."

  
"You said that it wouldn't be severe," I pouted.

  
"You call this severe? I thought ‘severe’ was getting your butt heated."

  
"But I really wanted to play the game," I whined.

  
"Okay. I'll give you a choice. You can either get your bare butt thoroughly spanked or you won't get to play the game for a week. Which will it be?"

  
I thought about it for a while.

  
"Does it have to be thoroughly?"

  
"Yes."

  
"Does it have to be bare?"

  
"Yes."

  
I let out a sigh. "Can I at least pick the implement?"

  
Walter thought about it for a minute. "Okay, you can pick it."

  
I thought some more, pacing around the room.

  
"How many swats?"

  
"I said thorough. I'll swat you until I'm happy with the color of your butt."

  
I found myself wincing at that, but quickly came to a conclusion. I walked over to Walter and unbuttoned my jeans, dropping them to my ankles.

  
"I want you to use your hand. Where do you want me?" I asked, standing there naked from the waist down.

  
Walter went over to the loveseat and sat down, patting the top of his thigh.  
I shuffled over and got down across his lap, placing my torso and legs on the seat. I felt him caressing my bare butt and squeezing the flesh. This was always the ritual before the pain would begin.

Finally, it stopped. I clenched my cheeks in anticipation of the first smack. I felt the smack, but to my surprise it wasn't so bad. I figured he was starting out light and it was going to get much worse, but it didn't. He smacked my butt, one cheek then the other. He had a pretty good rhythm going, but it didn't really sting that bad.

  
Finally he stopped and stood me up.

  
"I think I'm happy with this shade. You can pull your pants up now."

  
I stood there somewhat stunned. I leaned down to get my pants. "Um...I don't mean to make things worse, but I hardly felt that. I mean I did feel it, but not like I usually do when you spank me thoroughly."

  
"Oh, would you like me to do it better?" he asked, reaching for me.

  
I jumped out of his reach. "No-- you did it just fine!" I exclaimed as I fastened my pants. "Thanks," I added, smiling.

  
He smiled back then got up. "Come on, let's hook this baby up. I can't wait to take you down in the second round."

  
"Take me down in the second? You must be mad. You gonna' be kissing canvas in the first," I said, throwing a pillow on the floor to sit on.

  
"You wish," Walter said, opening the box and handing me the instruction booklet.  
We both worked on setting up the PlayStation while we continued to talk trash to one another. It was still hard for me to realize what Walter had done. I never would’ve guessed he could ever get rid of his figurines. Here I was contemplating getting him a new one to add to his collection --and he went and sold them! He sold them to show me he loved me more than them. I can't wait to tell Scully. She was right all along. He really did love me. I felt like a fool for ever having doubted him.

  
Of course, we bought many more games to play as well as a DVD player and DVD's to watch on the big screen. We enjoyed our den for many years to come and from that day on, we grew closer than ever. We became not just lovers and friends, but buddies and we never questioned the trust, honesty and love we had in our relationship ever again.  
   
   
                                           ~~~~~~~THE END~~~~~~~  
 


End file.
